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Author Archives: lilmissmessy

Chubby Malificient

Halloween is over.  Halloween is a massive holiday in my house, probably my husband’s favorite.  We decorate the house, pull out all the animatronics, and do it up.  We also dress up, have family dress up, and we haunt the neighborhood.  We typically get several hundred kids a year trick or treating.

This year, my “Descendants 2” obsessed daughter wanted to go as Mal, and asked me to go as Malificient.  Now, Malificient is one of my favorite movies, but I wasn’t really feeling it for Halloween.  That being said, my daughter is only a few years away from being mortified by my very existence, and I know this. She will head into the pre teens, embarrassed by me, as most kids are.  I know I have to soak up every moment of her being proud of me now, as I may need those memories to cling to later.

So I get myself a costume.  And to be fair, a lot of kids and parents liked it.  Some kids trick or treating  even asked me to take photos with them!  I felt rather honored. I felt pretty cute in my costume, and was pretty pleased with how it came out.

Then I saw the pictures.

Oof.

I looked HUGE. After they cancelled my aqua zumba class that I loved, I stopped going to the Y.  The kids’ activities were taking up 7 days a week and there was no time for me.  My weight loss from the “year of yes” has crept back since it’s been the summer of “I can’t my kids have practice”.  It’s not their fault, it all belongs squarely onto my shoulder, and chins, and I could go on but it’s depressing me……

Tomorrow is my 25th high school reunion.  I’m going, even though I had to leave sophmore year because we moved.  I went to middle school and high school with these folks, and I’d like to see them again. I am less, enthused, however, after seeing those pictures of myself.  How did I let myself go like this?  Granted, I haven’t gained 20 lbs over the summer, but it shows that I am not looking after myself properly.  I look tired, my skin looks drab, and I have thrown a few lbs back on.  I feel like I have lost my luster.  Add to that the medical stuff, and I feel so DRAINED.  I need to get back on track, and take better care of myself.

My daughter sees me only as Mommy.  The mommy who loves her unconditionally, the mommy who sings her awake every morning with silly songs.  I am the giver of hugs, the one who makes sure things are handled.  I am her soft place to land after a hard day.  I suppose I would like to be less physically soft..lol.  My decision to consider surgery in the next few months is based on trying to keep myself healthy for my kids and my husband.  It’s time I started making better choices, taking baby steps, and getting my butt in gear.  The first step is the hardest.

I don’t want to be chubby malificient.

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Good Deeds and One Decision

Every now and again, I try to do a kind deed.  Whether it be buying coffee for the person behind me at Dunkin Donuts, or doing a little surprise for a stranger.  Usually I do it when I am having a horrible day, not because because I feel I will get repaid in any sort of way, but because the thought of making someone smile a little brings a little spark to an otherwise crapfest of a day.  Usually I do things where I won’t see the person’s reaction, and I’d like to think it’s a happy one.  I feel like when the world seems like it’s in chaos, a little kindness feels grounding.  Mr Roger’s said his mom told him to “look for the helpers”.  I’d like to be a helper.  My husband is a helper.  He sometimes gives money to panhandlers and when I have asked him why he gives knowing they are often scammers, he gave me an answer that stuck with me.  He said it’s your intent when you give a hand, not their intent.  He gives freely, with no expectations, with no judgement. He grew up volunteering at a homeless shelter.  Giving is in his nature.

Yesterday I dropped the kids off to school, and promptly saw the gas light was on in the car.  I headed over to the gas station, only to see that they couldn’t accept cards, so I went to the one across the street (why the put identical businesses across the street is beyond me, but yesterday I was rather thankful for it.  I went in my bag to get my card out and a face appeared at my window.  I won’t lie, it unnerved me.  I sat there, unsure what to do.  I cracked the window and the man started telling me his story.  Said his car had broke down near the highway and he needed a new serpentine belt.  Said his AAA wasn’t paid up, and that he needed $16 dollars to get a new one (he had taken the max atm withdrawal out. but was short.  It was a scam.  I knew he was bullshitting me.  At first I was afraid he wanted a ride and I said I was sorry, but no way could I put a stranger in my car.  He laughed and said no way would he expect that. He was just trying to raise $16 dollars.  He told me about his job, handed me his passport, which looked dogeared.  The name he gave me matched the passport, and the picture matched his face.   Even though I knew I was likely being lied to, I gave him the money.  He handed me a piece of paper with his email, and he left.  I went to put gas in the car, and as I did so, I watched him run across to the other gas station, grab a backpack, and hope on a white bike.  I watched him ride off.  I wasn’t sure what to think.  Clearly, his story was bogus if he had a bike nearby.  I felt sad.  Not for the fact I had been scammed, because I had surmised it was a scam all along.  I felt sad because he had needed to do it.  Normal people don’t go around scamming people.

Later than day, I pulled out the paper with the email address.  It was a name@gmail type of email, so I looked up the name.  My friends nicknamed me Angela Lansbury a few years ago because I could “find” or “locate” people.  I found it a relaxing hobby, and was able to find some long lost relatives for friends of mine.  In the age of computers, it’s not all that hard to do.  I found his facebook profile.

What I saw was a bit shocking. I saw he had been arrested a few times for trespassing and possession. That fell in line with the scam.  Then I sawwe  grew up in the same town.  He was clearly at some point quite affluent, as there were pictures of him on his boat, at a yacht club, and info about his business.  I also saw that he was facebook friends with some of my friends.  Interestingly, he was friends with my old ex, who wasn’t on my facebook page, but who I saw on his friends list.  It was utterly bizarre.  Was his story real after all?  He appeared to be much more affluent than I was.   I messaged one of our mutual friends who had ended up dating my ex for some time after he and I split.

She responded to me this morning.  Her story was an interesting one.  Apparently this guy had lived with her and my ex for a while.  They were really good friends.  Then over time he started acting off and got into drugs.  He left and struggled with addiction.  He would pull himself out of it, and then fall back in.  He had cleaned up for a while, gotten married, and then his wife passed.  She told me that I had done a kind thing, but that he had likely sunk back into drugs.  It seemed odd because recent facebook posts had him seemingly on the ok track.

I’m left saddened.  The fact is, I may have met him in my younger years.  We clearly hung around the same people.  He was obviously doing quite well for himself, and now is left asking a check to check mom of two for money.  I feel a bit foolish for giving it.  I feel like I may have enabled him, which makes me feel like my good deed fell to a bad one.  Mostly, I feel just sad.

I have always told people “you are always just one small decision from a whole new life”.  I have told my children this, and I believe it.  One small decision can change one’s whole path in life, either for the better, or for the worse.  I tell my children this so that they will be mindful of consequences, but also so that they know that no matter how bad life gets, a small decision can set you on a new path to a happier life.  In other words, you can always change your life if you aren’t happy. I wonder how some choices ended him up in that gas station parking lot.

Part of me wants to email him and just let him know that I hope he’ll be ok in life.  Part of feels like I need to let it go.

 

 

Going Out With Fewer Parts Than I Started With

“How do you feel about a hysterectomy?” the Dr asked me.

I blinked quickly a few times, surprised by the question.  Sure, I had some severely heavy bleeding during my periods.  I knew I had fibroids, and they had just found a polyp.  My PMS was getting worse by the month, causing me severe cramping, which I’d never had before, and rage filled mood swings that made me feel unlike myself.  I was done having children, as I’m already of “advanced maternal age”, as I had sadly seen written on my last maternity chart.  But a hysterectomy?  That hadn’t been something that had crossed my mind.  I thought maybe they would do a D&C, or take the polyp out.  No, they wanted to take the whole kit and kaboodle out too.

Actually, that’s not entirely true.  Initially, the Dr said “we’d leave your ovaries, as they will help prevent things like dementia.  I nodded.  Both of my grandmothers had dementia, and it always frightened me a bit that I might get it too.  My memory is pretty awful as it is, never mind when I grow old!  Keeping the ovaries might help prevent it. Thumbs up to that!

“Oh, wait,” she said, looking at my chart again, “your family history shows a lot of cancer.  Are there really this many people who had cancer?” I nodded.  Both parents, three out of 4 grandparents, a semi estranged uncle who mentioned he had a tumor,  a great aunt.  The odds are working against me.  “We may need to take the ovaries too”, she said.  “Oh great, so it looks like I will possibly get cancer or forget who I am!” I laughed.  I must have looked nervous because she also offered to try to treat the issues I am having with meds for now.

A week in, I hate the meds.  They are some sort of birth control/hormone thing that I struggle to remember taking.  I feel slightly “off” on them and I don’t think they will be a good fit for me long term.  Surgery looks like it may be in the cards.  The only issue is, how does a full time working mom of 2 kids with a husband who is self employed working opposite hours take that kind of time off?  The Drs have said it could be 2-6 weeks.  I think I’ll be on the shorter end of it, as I tend to heal well and have had 2 c-sections before.  After the C sections I was walking and cleaning up (yes, CLEANING!) in no time.  Even still, I am scared of taking that kind of time off.

Not to too my own horn too much, but I am the scheduler, the planner, and the hub of the family.  I manage where everyone needs to be, how they get there, and what they need.  I plan the minutia of the day, keeping everyone in the loop, and calling for help from family when I get stuck.  With my husband’s schedule, most transportation and execution of tasks falls to me.  One of the ways I scare the kids to get stuff done like cleaning their rooms is to tell them I may go on strike.  If Mommy goes on strike, they know things will be chaos.  Taking myself out of the loop for even 2 weeks is going to be a strain on the family.  My husband is awesome and will step up to help. I have also had family offer to help in however they are needed.  I am super lucky to have them.

So there it is.  First there will be genetic counseling to try to get a handle on my genetic risk for cancer.  Based on that, the dr’s will make a recommendation about how much to remove.  I guess the nice thing will be no more heavy bleeding, and also I might even lose a pound or so..lol.

More to come.

Catch up time

Hi Y’all.

It’s been a while.  I’ve actually logged in and started writing, but never finished a post, or just never clicked the publish button.  I miss writing though, and it felt like the time to catch up.

So from my past posts you saw I was trying out the whole “living the yes life”.  I tried saying yes rather than no to new opportunities and events.  It was fun, I learned a lot, I enjoyed myself, and I even lost some weight.  Things were trucking along.  Then my favorite excercise class got cancelled.  Summer showed up with birthdays most weekends.  Work geared up with new challenges.  Life got busy with too much yes.  So now I am learning how to gracefully say no to some things.  It’s a learning process, because no so often comes with that thing called guilt, and I am no so good at handling the guilt aspect of it.

One of my biggest “yes” moment this year was allowing my son to sign up for football. I love football, and buy tickets for us to go to NFL games as our “romantic trip” each year. That being said, I learned that it’s a different feeling altogether sending my son out on the field.  The time commitment is huge…5 nights a week, plus games on weekends.  He asked me to do it.  He wanted to do something new this year, and had been showing a lot of interest in football.  Each of the kids choose one sport/activity per season.  I’ve offered them to do more than one, but they generally prefer to stick to one thing.  This one is the work of 7 activities.

When I learned of the schedule, my brain wanted to bleed out onto the floor.  As it is I work full time, have another child who does gymnastics that I have to coordinate for, 2 pets, a husband and a house that is the messiest it has ever been.  I am in chaos. A LOT of chaos.  Now there are many of you out there who handle all of these with no problem.  You are skilled, and oraganized, neat freakish and super moms.

I am not any of those things.

I am a domestic fail, tired (hot DAMN I am so tired), I am figuring out this mom thing as I go, and I do it mostly by myself since my husband works opposite hours.  It’s not pretty, it’s not graceful, but I get a lot of it done.  Not ALL mind you, hence the messy house.  I am that mom screeching into the parking lot at the last minute with kids still putting cleats on, or me jumping out to quickly braid hair before gymnastics. That movie Bad Moms?  Yep.  That would be me.

Now I have spent 11 years protecting my son.  Keeping him safe. When a kid shoved him a playground I close talked that kid and told him not to lay one single finger on my kid again (I love a good close talk when you need to get a message across). Now, by his choice, I am sending him out on a field to be shoved and pushed and knocked down. Coaches are gruff.  He’s going to get banged up and bruised.  I have to stand or sit there and hold it together and not want to run out and snap legs when someone hurts him.  I have to remain tough and straight faced.  It is just so HARD.  The only reason I do it is because he seems to kind of love it.  Even on the hard days.  Yesterday was hard.  He went down and didn’t get right back up.  He was hurt.  He was frustrated. He questioned his ability to do it all.  He came home, and I fussed over him a little.  He let me.  In the car this morning I reminded him that not everything will come easily to him.  He’s always been that kid that’s learned things quickly. I reminded him of his frustration when he tried a Rubik’s cube.  He had gotten so angry at his inability to solve it.  I had explained to him at the time that most people couldn’t solve them, but that I knew someone who could, and there were certain tricks to solve them.  He sat down and damn if he didn’t teach himself how.  Before long, he was testing himself on speed of solving it.  He reached in his bag this morning and low and behold, was his Rubik’s cube.  Before long he was quickly working on solving it.  mI asked him “do you still want to continue with football? do you still kind of love it?”  He said yes. So today we go again. I will proudly watch him succeed, and I will proudly watch him fail sometimes too, because the kid is giving it his all.

The little one, who I have always referred to as Tiny Diva in this blog, has lost a lot of her Diva-ness.  She had been a tough cookie from 2-4, but she has now settled in to herself. I’ll call her LM, for Little Mama.  Gymnastics has been a huge saving grace.  My sister in law noticed how flexible LM was and mentioned she might be good at gymnastics.  I signed her up, and the benefits have been enormous.  My daughter, who was struggling in school with some self confidence issues, started picking up steam and having more faith in herself.  She has better self esteem, more confidence, and has a good body image.  We talk a lot about being strong and healthy, and that happy girls are pretty girls.  My favorite shirt of hers has the words “princess” and “diva” crossed out, and it says “SMART, TALENTED GIRL”.  The girl who used to pretend like she didn’t know things is coming out of her shell.  She is learning the fine line between being a leader, and being bossy.  Sometimes, it’s a difficult conversation to have.  Women are often told that if they are leaders, they are bitches, bossy, a nag, etc.  Growing up, I remember being told not to voice my opinions so much, to be quite, to fade into the background more.  I’m working on finding a good way to explain how to be a leader, without being bossy and making other kids feel like she’s ordering them around.

Our beloved cat passed away a few months ago.  I had to make the decision to put her down.  She had cancer.  It was heartbreaking.  We all felt the loss, even the dog.  He seemed down and I often wondered if he knew she had died.  He didn’t quite seem himself.  Our family seemed incomplete to me after a while, and I started looking at Petfinder to see if any cats “called” to me. I scrolled through endless pictures over a few weeks until I found a cat that caught my eye.  He was an orange tabby, about 6 months to a year old.  He looked stoned.  He reminded me of the comedian Jim Breuer.  Someone had put him in a box, duct taped it, and left him outside of a store on March 11th.  I was in a wedding that day, and I remember it being bone chillingly cold when the wind blew. I felt awful for this poor cat.  I emailed about him.  I told my husband who seemed less than inclined to get another cat.  “I want you to come with me to see him” I said.  He didn’t sound thrilled.  I said “he kind of looks like Jim Breuer”.  “What time are we going?” he replied.  When I commented I was surprised in his change of heart, he responded “You just told me the cat looks like Jim Breuer, how could I not go meet him?”.  We drove all the way up to the rescue, only to find out the cat had gone to the vet for not eating.  After a few days, the rescue called and asked if I wanted to foster him.  They thought the cat might be depressed in the shelter environment and wanted to see if he would improve in a home environment.  Well, let me tell you, the cat eats more than the dog.  He’s now a member of the family.  He’s a nutjob, full of energy, and wants love the most when anyone is in the bathroom.  He will knock on the bathroom door to come in, and even try to turn the handle to get in.  Every night he and the dog go to each kid’s room to say goodnight.  He fits right in.

So there you have it.  Life right now is about preparing for school starting, football, work, gymnastics, football, pet hair creating tumbleweeds in my house, football and trying to get things done.  It’s a happy time, if not chaotic.  Just like my son is learning something new, I am learning a new schedule, new ways to make it work.  Anything that brings more chaos is just not something I have time for.  I’m keeping things as bare bones as possible, and I’ll work up from there. In just 3 weeks my whole schedule changes again.  So that mom cheering wildly on the sidelines, or from the balcony at gymnastics? The one holding a vat of coffee?  That will be me. I may be in chaos for a while, but it’s a happy chaos.

 

 

 

 

11 Years.

In just a few days, it will have been 11 years since my mom died.  I can hardly believe it.  So much has happened in those 11 years.  While most of my huge life changes happened in the few months before she died (birth of my son, marriage, new home, back to work), life has kept moving.  My father eventually remarried.  I went through many stages of grief.  I had my daughter.  Life keeps moving forward, and it seems so strange to me at times that it has.  The moment when you lose a parent is the moment that life stops for a bit.  A part of you goes with them.  The part that is your endless cheerleader.  The part that made you feel like it would be ok during times when it felt anything but.  The part that was your calm from the storm.  The part that made sure you had a cup of tea after a car accident, because tea has to make you feel better.  The part that when you heard their voice when life was the toughest, would make you cry.

I was lucky.  While there were bumps in the road along the way,  my mom and I had a great relationship when I became an adult.  She was my first phone call when life happened, good or bad.  We made each other laugh.  I know not everyone has that kind of relationship with their parents, so I know how lucky I am to have had it.

It’s odd, because as each year passes, each anniversary of her death hits me in a completely different way.  Last year seemed a bit easier.  This year seems to be hitting me a bit harder.  I try very hard to take the grief more private.  I know it makes people around me feel a bit awkward.  I know this seems ironic because I’m writing about it in a blog, which is out there for the world to see, but supposedly this is a bit more anonymous.  I’m not ashamed of missing her, of having some moments of grief for my loss, but it does make others feel at a bit of a loss for words.  I have many strong women around me who have fantastic relationships with their moms. It brings me a lot of joy to see, but of course, I miss having that myself.

This year, it is a bit more difficult that some years past.  It doesn’t make much sense why.  I plan on turning it around a bit and doing some things to celebrate her life.  (She’d probably tell me to celebrate by cleaning my messy house..lol).  I want to find ways to incorporate her memory into a fun activity for the kids.  I can keep her memory alive with stories and pictures for them, but it’s always nice to do a fun thing in her memory with them.  She’d want me to laugh, to celebrate.  This is the woman said she thought we should play “ding dong the witch is dead” at her funeral.

So, if you stumble across my litte blog, do something kind in memory of a woman who always befriended the new kid in class, and who looked after those who felt alone.  When she died I heard many a story of how my mom always reached out to the lonely folks or people who needed a friend.  Reach out, make someone who feels unseen feel seen and heard.  Buy someone a coffee, lend a hand.  Listen to someone who feels their voice goes unheard.  Give your kids ice cream before dinner.  Do something, anything, to make someone smile.  Give a little of yourself.  Do something on your bucket list. Help someone else do something on their bucket list.  LIVE!

 

Living the “Yes” life.

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I know it’s been a while since I posted.  I’ve been pretty busy.  Yes, yes, I know that is what everyone says, but in this case, it’s true!  Aside from the usual working mother of 2, wife, and the normal day to day chaos, I have been trying very hard to live the “yes” life.  I thought perhaps it’s time to do an update on how it’s going.

I started this after lamenting about the extra weight that has cropped up on my the past 10 years or so.  After mulling it over and feeling a bit sorry for myself, a memory of a conversation I had with my mother popped in my head.  She once told me how proud she was of me for my determination and independence.  I remember her telling me how I seemed to just set my mind to things and DO them.  It seemed logical that I could apply this mentality to losing some weight.  I talked myself into it.  I COULD do it.  I just needed to set my mind to it, and to make a plan.  I realized I am not a big fan of the gym, but I like being active.  The first thing I did was start going to an Aqua Zumba class on Mondays.  You know what?  I LOVE it.  LOOOVVVVEEEE it.  It makes me feel great and I have a good time.  I actually look forward to Mondays…how is that even possible?  The AZ class led me to take a deep water fit class.  I started losing a bit of weight.  I realized, now that I was a bit more active, that much of my problem thus far was that I wasn’t doing much at all before I started the classes.  I had gotten up, dropped the kids off, and gone to work all day.  Then I would come home, get the kids fed and ready for bed, and then watched TV.  I wasn’t doing much for me.

I needed to make some changes, and it started with the mindset that I would say “yes” more.  Because I was saying yes more, I felt less guilty when I had to say no.  When my son’s soccer coach couldn’t coach this season, and nobody else volunteered.  I said yes.  I have help, and I had some learning to do, but I am doing it!  I will tell you…it’s the best damned thing ever.  I love it.  It’s not always easy, and 10 year old boys will give you a run for your money, but on the whole, it’s been fantastic.  I feel ike I have done something positive, I get some excercise, and it’s been so much fun.  My son said he was proud of me.  That was worth the price of admission right there!

I am saying yes to plans, and finding ways to do things for me, as well as the kids.  I took a trip to NYC 3 days ago to go see one of my favorite authors do a reading.  Before, I likely would have made excuses, but this time I was determined to go.  One night to myself to do something I enjoyed was a complete recharge.  I notice that since I have been saying yes more, I am finding time to not only do more things with the kids, but for myself as well.

The end result?  I am happier.  I guess what they say is true, a happy wife is a happy life, because our household seems happier.  It also seems healthier.  The kids are supportive of me going to excercise classes 2x a week (the Y has a childcare room they go to for an hour where they draw, play or hang out).  My husband is supportive as well.  We’re all eating better.  We exercise more.  My son, who never learned how to ride a bike, learned (in the rain) because he asked me to teach him, and I said yes.  I had always thought it would have to be something my husband taught him, but nope!  I set my mind to teach him and it worked!  I am trying to silence the negative inner voice in my head and replace it with a positive, happy one.  It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting better all the time.

Have I lost weight?  Yup, so far it’s 16 lbs.  I gained 3 back, then lost them again.  It’s a process.  Hopefully it will keep disappearing with a bit of work, and staying active.

Ok, so I haven’t quite gotten the hang of saying yes more to the housework.

Can’t win em all.

Live the Yes life.  You won’t be sorry.

 

 

 

Being A “Yes” Mom

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I’ve always felt I was a pretty good mom, as far as the whole mom thing is concerned.  I tried my best to manage work and family, we made it to soccer games and family events.  It seemed like I was getting by.  I never wanted to be one of those moms with tons of activities to be headed to.  It seemed overwhelming, and as it was, I had a messy house, and it seemed like I had no energy to extend to anything else.  I didn’t have enough time to really take care of myself, never mind to add on extra activities.  It all just seemed…so overwhelming.  I spent a lot of time declining activities, and I justified it because I felt already stretched so thin.

A few months ago, I decided it might be fun to take the kids to the Y to go swimming.  It was a bit of a whim, but I thought perhaps it could help them burn off some steam.  While we were there, I suddenly heard some thumping music, and I turned to see the source.  There was an aqua zumba class going on, and I found myself fascinated.  Granted, many of the women were far older than I, but they were MOVING. They were SMILING.  I watched much of the class, and I suddenly felt “I want to do that.  I want to be like them.  I can rock it with those older ladies!”  The next week, I had the kids in the monitored childcare area to play and I went to the class.  I had a BLAST and was so happy that I had gotten over my shyness and decided to go.  I felt better for it.  I got to thinking about all the things I had accomplished over my life, and the one that seemed to elude me was getting my weight back down.  It’s not terrible, but I could improve it, and I could certainly get fitter.  There was nothing stopping me, but me.  I made the choice to challenge myself to get fitter.

A few weeks on, I have dropped some weight.  I have more energy, and I feel happier.  I am doing aqua zumba twice a week, and try to squeeze in some sort f exercise when I can.  I’m not a gym girl, but I try to do what I can to get some exercise.

The biggest change in all of this, is not just the weight loss.  It’s that my decision to say “yes” to the class brought me such happiness that I began to say yes more and more.  I have been making a conscious decision to be more of a “yes” parent.  This doesn’t mean the kids get spoiled or get to do whatever they want, but when presented with an option to do something, I am working to say yes more than no.

When our soccer coach couldn’t coach this season, we were faced with having to find a new person to volunteer to be coach, or to split up our team.  When nobody seemed to step up, I decided to say “yes”.  Meet the new head coach!  It’s a learning curve, and I’m sure some people think I’m crazy, but my son has told me how proud he is that I am doing it.  That’s all I need.  I am actually loving it.  I need to keep learning more and more about the game, but I know enough to get by, and to ask for help when I need it.

Last week, I balanced work, cooked a full meal, raced to and ran soccer practice, and attended a school kid/parent dance with the kids.  They had the time of their lives, and both commented on how awesome it is that I was going to the dance.

Today, after a week of rain, my son was lamenting that he still hadn’t learned to ride a bike.  My dad got him the bike few years ago.  It’s a beautiful blue bike, and yet after a quick try at the playground to teach him to ride a 2 wheeler, it has sat unused in our basement.  I’ve eyed it with a sense of guilt that he hadn’t learned yet(I LOVED riding my bike at his age) and self doubt (surely this is something my husband would have to teach him).  It was raining.  I was tired.  There were all he reasons I would normally given myself to say no. Today, however, it was different.  Today was the day I would make a change, and say yes.   I stuffed the bike in the car, went to fill the tires with air, and decided today would be the day he would learn how to ride.It was drizzling outside.  I decided to give him the basic rundown and my best advice: “Where you look, is where you will go.  Look ahead and in the direction you want to go!” (I was taught this when I learned to ride a motorcycle and it was sound advice).  In no time, he was riding like  he’d been doing it for ages.  The sense of pride he felt in himself was the best mother’s day gift I could get.  My daughter cheered him on, and then hopped on her bike to follow him on her little bike.  I took a video and sent it to my husband who was at work.  His response? “This was the best part of my day!”

Today, I commented how funny it was that I went from hating having lots scheduled to actually enjoying it.  My son says I have “evolved” into a better mom, one who is happier, more fun, and more energetic.  My house, sadly, is messy as hell.  My kids, my husband and I?  We’re less of a mess.  We’re making memories. My son, who has been embarrassed by any affection in public from me since he was 5, now tells me how proud he is of me, and that he thinks it’s great I am coaching.  My relationship with the kids is better than ever.  In just a couple of months, it feels like we have made big strides.  I have lost weight as a side effect of being on the go, trying new things, and getting off the couch.  I am now down at the soccer field kicking the ball with the kids, hitting my aqua zumba class, and running down the sidewalk while the kids ride a bike.

 

So for now, I shall be the yes mom.  Just don’t judge my house 😉