Can We Please Not Judge?

Y'all really have your own thoughts about things, don't you?

You know what you need for your family to survive for the next 14+ days and you've made those purchases accordingly.

And maybe you got some extra toilet paper. Good on you. As long as you didn't knock someone over the head for it, I'm cool with that.

Honestly, I don't care if you ordered six dozen mega-packs of toilet paper from Amazon if it made you feel better.

And I don't care if you piled your shopping cart with about ten bottles of wine if you're so inclined.

You're a grown-up. You do you.

And I'll do the same.

But can you not judge me for my choices?

And if you're thinking, but what, Andrea, I didn't say anything to you about what you did or didn't buy when you went to the store two times this last week. What's the problem?

No. Maybe you didn't.

But did you, when you were buying your "essentials" - did you find yourself looking at the cart of the person next to you and thinking, what the heck do they need THAT for?

Did you look at how many blue boxes of macaroni and cheese they purchased and roll your eyes?

Did you count their cartons of eggs, and the number of boxes of cake mix?

Did you think, what on earth does someone need four jars of pickles for?

Did you look through their items and wonder why they didn't have berries and apples and avocados in their stockpiling stashes?

Did you consider that they didn't need that stuff because they get two produce deliveries every week so they can support local farmers and buy rejected fruits and veggies so they don't end up in the landfill?

Did you think about how their toddler ONLY eats the mac-n-cheese from the BLUE box, no matter how hard they've tried to get them to eat something else?

Did you count the number of bags of frozen chicken nuggets in comparison to packages of fresh chicken breasts and thighs? And if you did - did you realize that this was the third store they'd been to this morning and every single one of them was out of poultry?

Please, friends.

We are in the middle of a freaking PANDEMIC.

Hello. A PANDEMIC.

Definition from Merriam-Webster.

occurring over a wide geographic area and affecting an exceptionally high proportion of the population

an outbreak of a disease that occurs over a wide geographic area and affects an exceptionally high proportion of the population : a pandemic outbreak of a disease

Can we please stop with the judging?

Can we please remind ourselves that what we're just trying to get through this as best we can? And that we've each got our own concerns in the midst of it all? 

Because the last thing we need is to feel like someone is looking at us with an 'I've got it all together' kind of look. You know the one. The one that makes you feel like crap and makes you wish you could crawl into a hole. Or the freezer section at the local supermarket. Or maybe the beer section. And I don't even drink beer. 

I'm always telling people to cut themselves some slack. 

To give themselves a bit of grace. 

To remind themselves that, hey, we're all - each one of us - human. 

Now I'll take a moment to remind each of us of something else. 

The importance of doing the same for others. 

Cut them some slack. 

Give them some grace. 

Extend a bit of heart beyond your own circle. 

If you wouldn't say it to a friend, or want a friend to say it to you? 

Don't say it about anyone you don't know. 

Please. 

Please don't judge. 

* If you're struggling, I've offered some tips on how to find a bit of calm in the midst of the current chaos.

* If you're concerned about your community and the impact that closing schools will have on those families who are managing food insecurity? I have shared information on how to Donate to Your Local Food Bank. 

Read it to find ways to help.

Because helping feels so much better than judging, my friends. 

And I know you have it in you. It's why I love and respect you so. 

Important Disclaimer: 

If you're buying all the medical supplies and things that our friends' lives depend on, but yours does not? I will judge you. DO NOT PUT THE LIVES OF OTHERS AT RISK for your stockpiling purposes. Please. Just don't do it. You don't need fifteen bottles of distilled water. But your friend who needs a CPAP machine to BREATHE while they sleep? DOES. Thank you.

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And The Award For The Worst Mom Ever Goes To ...

You guessed it.

Me.

It's been a hell of a day here in my house.

It started first thing this morning.

I'm not living large right now.

Not loving life.

I probably wouldn't even be posting right now if it weren't for NaBloPoMo.

National Blog Posting Month.

Yep.

Every November.

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Mother's Day: To All The Moms

This week I'd like to share some notes on motherhood I've written. Some of these posts have been shared before on other websites. Links to those sites have been noted at the end of these posts. Some pieces have been shared here on my own blog, but are things I feel deserve another look. Some are just brand new shares on being a mom. Join me in celebrating mothers.

Source: pixabay... en/super-mami-mama-bebe-arms-happy-951190/

To all the moms out there. 

Happy Mother's Day.

To the new moms. The ones who are trying to decide if they're doing anything right.

We see you. Happy Mother's Day.

To the Mama-To-Be. Expecting her first. Second. Third. Whichever addition to your family this baby is - it does not matter. What a blessing. What joy.

We see you. Happy Mother's Day.

To the woman trying to become a mom. Aching. Yearning. Pulling out all the stops. 

We see you. Happy Mother's Day.

To the mother who returned home without her baby. A loss impossible to describe. But one you've been given no choice but to bear. 

We see you. Happy Mother's Day.

To the single mom, spending her first Mother's Day with her child. Alone. Thinking back to years gone by. You're recognized. Celebrated.

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The Emotions of Motherhood

* I wrote this yesterday and didn't give myself the time to bring it to the blog. This morning I am feeling much better, but I find it important to share just the same. * 

I pick it up.

A journal of inspirational prompts.

I started it yesterday.

Smiling. Answering. Knowing.

Today I know nothing.

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Motherhood: Simple Joys

We've been running and running this past week. Or at least it seems like it. We did have some downtime over the weekend, so that was good - if not dull, due to overcast skies and whatnot.

But today we're home.

Me and the kiddo.

And the dogs. And cats. But who really sees the cats during the day?

Anyway, we're home. And it's hot as Hades out there.

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Motherhood: I'm Keepin It Real

I yell at my child.

I do.

I did tonight.

It broke my heart after I did it.

She cried. I cried.

But I hit a wall.

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Without any marshmallows.

They've both left for the day.

She's dressed. Hair brushed. (Sort of.)

It's time for camp and I have clients.

But I find myself staring into a bowl of cereal.

Mornings are rushed.

After they leave I don't really focus on myself - I run on autopilot.

Things you wouldn't really SEE if you walked into my house.

I run upstairs and start laundry.

I might start reading or writing, too.

I load the dishwasher. Maybe unload. And re-load.

I sweep. Sure, sometimes I use my feet to shove dust-bunnies to the side before I can get to them. But I do - eventually - sweep.

I take care of my morning meds. When I remember. Otherwise it's noon and I think, oh. Yeah.

But I always take them. For certain.

Eventually I'll sit down and watch some TV. Zone out for a few.

I find myself particularly exhausted this morning. Yesterday was Father's Day. An emotionally draining day for me.

I slept funny because one of my cats stole my pillow. Or one of them. My neck hurts.

I'm tired, but I have work to do.

And this cereal, it's prompted so many thoughts. It's kind of ridiculous. Maybe.

But I look at it and think - well, it would be such a waste. I might as well have it for breakfast.

Leftovers.

Scraps.

It's got my almond milk in it (that's where I draw the line. If it's skim I'll pass!) and isn't quite at the point of full-on sog-fest yet.

Eh.

I guess.

And so instead of dumping it out I find myself eating it.

Spoonful after spoonful before I realize.

She ate all the marshmallows.

I laugh because I should have known when she said she was full she wasn't entirely full.

But in the rush of the morning, teeth and hair brushing - encouraging her to move along - I didn't stop and look.

She's seven now. Old enough to know if she is full.

I trusted that. Still do.

For her.

But for me?

What fills me up?

Is it writing? Reading? Social work? Parenting? Volunteering? Learning?

So so very much.

So many things.

And yet ...

Sometimes ...

I find myself without any marshmallows.

And while that's sometimes okay. Sometimes acceptable.

Sometimes?

It's just not.

Moms need marshmallows, too.

Remind yourself of that.

You're entitled to marshmallows in your life.

Bright bursts of color.

Sweet moments of all sizes.

Smiles.

Laughs.

Tears.

Yes. They count, too.

They're YOUR marshmallows. Do with them as you see fit.

Just make sure you have them.

You deserve them.

Now go pour yourself a fresh bowl.

And sit back and savor each one.

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School's (not quite) out for summer.

Summer is so beautiful around here. We get out on the lake a LOT and it's so much fun. Just the fresh air and the water and the sun shining, it's pretty great, honestly. It's a rough life when I think about it - the weekends - anyway. Wanna see?

Gorgeous, right?

I know - I know it is. And how I wish we could be out there all day every day. But summer isn't like that and my husband kind of has to work. I mean - he could skip out - but then we'd have a problem, I'm sure. Or maybe a few ...

But summer is awesome in so many ways. And kind of scary in others.

And so I can't decide if I'm more excited for school to be over than my daughter is ... but I do know that I just might be more terrified.

Here's a little bit about why:

Pro:

NO. MORE. HOMEWORK.

Hallelujah.

Con:

Nothing. I got nothing.

Pro:

Sleeping in!

Con:

Nope. None here, either. Though I probably won't sleep in all that much. We do have two dogs and all. I should probably help my husband with them in the mornings, right?

So, these two things seem pretty awesome, don't they? They totally would mean every and anything to any sane parent and should outweigh any not-so-great things we might have to deal with, sure. I mean - what IS my problem, you might ask. Stay with me. It's coming.

Pro:

No more creating enticing portable lunches!

Con:

EVERY.SINGLE.MEAL. Of the day. At home. And snacks.

Pro:

No more "required" reading.

Con:

Right now I've been asking her for about forty minutes to find a book and read it so she can do her homework assignment. Pick a book - ANY book.

She can't find one. In the possible hundreds of books she has in her room she wants to read Brown Bear, Brown Bear. Yes. I don't know why I have kept all the old books, either. They were sort of helpful when she first started really reading on her own. Gave her an accomplished feeling. And the nostalgia. That's there, too.

And fine. I'm a book addict. I just can't seem to give them away. So there. I said it.

Pro:

More time together. I'm really honestly looking forward to this. I am. I miss her in the not-quite-fall when school starts around here. I do. It's a tug at the heartstrings when she starts her next grade. And so I'm happy to have time together - where we can do whatever and have fun.

Con:

SO much time together. She's bored. She's hungry. She wants me to play tea party with water in little ceramic cups that taste awful and Nerds in a small cup for snack. Nerds from like two Halloweens ago, I'm pretty sure. I'm not always up for tea party, man. I'm just not.

Am I an awful mom for saying so? Nah. Just keepin' it real.

Saying these things doesn't make me a mean mom or a bad one. It doesn't mean I don't love my child. It *might* mean that I enjoy some quiet time where there isn't noise surrounding me or balloons being tossed about. Seriously, who invented balloons, people? Because I need to have a word with him. Yeah - I feel that it's a him. I just know it. Grrrr.

This summer my daughter will be spending some time away from me. I'm honestly terrified of that upcoming experience so I have decided not to talk about it at all right now. I'm sure it will be fine, but hush. Don't ask and let's just pretend I didn't say anything, okay?

She'll also be headed to day camp for a week. Maybe a second week, because I think with all of the time we have "free" I might just want to sign her up so she has more fun. Maybe. Possibly. We'll see.

Some might say I should consider year-round school. Nah. Not feelin' it. I'm a traditional calendar kinda' mom.

Even if it means I may have to talk to my doctor about upping my medication a little.

You probably laughed there. I did, too. And yet there's always some truth in jest, isn't there? Just a little?

I'm linking up with Shell over at Things I Can't Say today. Her Pour Your Heart Out post this week is pretty much the opposite of what I just wrote here, and I think that's interesting. Maybe it is entirely about the ages. Maybe it's because she has three and her kids can entertain one another? Maybe it's because I don't drive and that totally cramps my "entertain my kid" style?

And to wrap up my night, and my post, I've included my latest Instagram share.

Me.

Hours after this post first began.

After dinner - sort of.

After a small break - sort of.

And not quite completely after homework.

It was still going on when I took this selfie. STILL. GOING. ON.

So. Yeah. This is mommy's homework face.

Maybe summer won't be so bad after all ...

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So much.

She lays next to me. Fidgeting. Unable to settle into the call of sleep.

I lay still beside her.

Reflecting on the day.

The pressure behind my right eye is immense.

Unsure of whether or not it's an actual impending headache or a ball of tears, I pretend I don't feel it.

My patience wears thin as she finds yet another need-to-do moment before shutting her eyes.

Tonight she became a Brownie.

A huge step for my little Daisy girl who has grown so over the last three years.

Huge.

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Motherhood is ...

There are so many words I could fit into this post. The one that has been swirling around my head for days. I have thoughts and feelings and well, it's possible that this post has been swirling around for longer. Maybe years, but more likely many months. Seven, to be exact.

Because seven months ago my family experienced the worst day of all of our lives.

Worst of ever.

And those of you who know me know it's when we lost my father.

And those of you who don't, especially, you know it now.

And that day. Those days. Seven months ago? Those days my mother's world completely changed. Forever.

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Motherhood, by JC Little ~ Book review

* I received an electronic copy of this book directly from the author to facilitate my review. 

I was not compensated for this review in any way. *

Have you heard of JC Little yet? She's The Animated Woman.

And her drawings are rock-yer-socks awesome. Seriously. All you need to do is head on over to her website to see just how talented she is.

And what's amazing about this book - beyond the sentiment and the artistry - is that there are no written words. That's right. Not a one.

So how, pray tell, is this an actual book?

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Mornings.

Last week my husband was away at a conference. Our mornings were so different because we had to get up an hour earlier to catch the bus. Well, the child caught the bus, but I had to get her to it.

But somehow, getting up that much earlier made her more cooperative. Maybe it was the understanding of no back-up plan? I don't know, exactly, but I was good with it.

This? This is how my morning went this morning.

Admittedly, I was exhausted and didn't want to wake up when the husband tried to nudge me out of bed with a "Get up. Get uppppp. Get up!" or something like that. Who listens at that time of the day, anyway?

Wake up. Go pee. Brush teeth (I have to people, it just helps me function!).

Go wake the child.

Continue trying to wake the child.

Stick cold hands under child's blanket.

Calm dog. Talk to cat(s). Turn bathroom water on for cat. Break up cat fight.

Talk to other dog.

"CHILD. WAKE UP." Repeat several times.

Make child laugh. Mornings really are kind of beautiful until you realize that holy cannoli! You're going to be way too late to do all of the *downstairs things* if she doesn't get her but out of bed immediately.

Child complains that her eyes do not "adjust" well in the mornings. Yes. She - six year old that she is - used the word adjust at me.

"Keep them closed and I will walk you to the bathroom," and so I do.

Leave her in the dark bathroom with cat drinking from sink faucet. *Shoot. Is that water still on? I hope not. Better go check!

Child takes five years in the bathroom. Do your kids tend to have to poop in the mornings and take forever? No? Just mine?

Put clothes onto bed for child.

"CHILD. Come on! COME ON!"

Back to bedroom. Talk to dogs. Check lunch and breakfast menu on iPad to see if those are options today. Lunch isn't, breakfast could be.

Back to child's room.

"Let's go ..."

Child gets dressed. I go get the dogs. Hear the kiddo say, 'These socks are TOO TIGHT!' ... respond, "You're a big girl. Find yourself a pair of socks." Sigh loudly.

Leash boxer puppy Bella. She's crated because she doesn't like cats. Or likes them too much? We're not quite sure and don't want to test it out.

Bring dogs downstairs. Let them outside. Walk past Keurig and turn it on. Pantry for dog food. Bella starts barking outside. YELL at dogs.

I'm moving as fast as I can, you know?

They don't get it, these dogs.

Scoop dog food into bowls, let dogs in, take muffins out of pantry. The child has decided choices are too difficult these days. Make child hot chocolate (new thing in the mornings).

Start husband's coffee. Grab pack of Pop Tarts for him.

Cut pieces of muffin for daughter's breakfast. Decision made.

Start preparing lunch. Figure it's easier than asking. Choices and all.

Grab snacks for lunch. Fill cup with water for school. Cup stinks. Water bottle instead.

Next K-cup for husband's coffee.

Put toothpaste on child's toothbrush. Yes. I know. I shouldn't. But GOOD LAWD if I don't it's another ten minutes, seriously.

Put knot genie on bathroom counter.

"Go brush hair and brush teeth." Repeat several times.

Ask child if she wants to wear boots or sneakers today. Choice again, decide screw that. Get child's sneakers. PUT SNEAKERS ON CHILD'S FEET.

Don't tell me you've never done it. I won't believe you. Some days it's all I have to not have her stand still and do everything because I do it faster.

Remind child to brush hair and teeth.

Give husband his coffee.

Go start brushing child's hair while she brushes her teeth. (You're not alone, mama whose daughter shouts IT HURTS before you've really even touched her hair. I feel you.)

Get backpack and *jacket*. Offer child a choice again, but know her answer before she gives it. Eenie Meenie Miney Moe. Here you go.

Head outside, help child into vehicle. Hand her hot chocolate (forgot step - put hot chocolate in travel mug safe for child and vehicle and husband's sanity while driving). Kiss child goodbye.

Go around front and kiss husband.

Wave from porch.

Wave again.

Go into house.

Close and lock door.

Collapse.

Morning note: Try not to drink anything stronger than coffee while old man dog Dexter drives me crazy requesting to go outside, come back in, go outside, come back in.

Make myself coffee. Eat piece of muffin. Spend lots and lots of time on the Internet.

Listen to Carrie Underwood and feel powerful. Sip coffee.

Check time. Not even TEN? Whew. I need a nap.

Motherhood's amazing, isn't it? I honestly wouldn't trade a moment of it, but I had to share anyway. It was like a play-by-play this morning and I knew it would make a perfect (to me, anyway, hope you enjoyed) blog post.

Now, where did I leave my coffee ...?

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Out on the water.

It seems like a week goes by and I suddenly say, oh, wait, I haven't posted in - oh, a week or so. I'm not sure why that is. Fall is coming. The child started school. You'd think I'd be posting up a storm. But I'm not. And today I had a small idea for posting, and suddenly found two link-ups I could share with, and one other I normally do (cause it's Wednesday, and that means I head to Shell's place for Pour Your Heart Out today!).

And so, here's what we did this weekend.

We finally got back out on the water. It was such a beautiful day. Almost fall-like. Almost. But way warmer than I expected. Which my daughter LOVED. Because, well ... look.

It was definitely chilly, but that didn't matter. She swam. By herself. But yes, that's my husband at the edge of the picture. Easily able to reach her if she needed him. She didn't care one way or the other. She loves the water. Which is something I'm so glad we've passed on to her. No fear. I seem to remember being that way when I was a kid. And now, even. Sometimes. My husband is, too. At least when it comes to water. So we're lucky. #nofear

And this picture kind of sums up the sort of bliss she feels out on the water. It also makes me really happy. #nofilter

So while this isn't quite your normal (okay, MY normal) Pour Your Heart out post, it totally represents what I love about family time on the weekends. We did invite some friends out with us, but they weren't able to make it. And that was okay. Sometimes it's okay to be out there, just the three of us. Enjoying each other. And the water. And the fresh air and sunshine.

Sometimes that's what it's all about. A small escape from the mundane or the plugged in. Yes, I know, I used my phone out there to capture a few moments. I often try to be better about NOT doing that, but then, then I look at these shots and smile. I like to have them. When she's in her 20s and looking back at her childhood I like that I'll have these pictures.

You know - our parents captured important moments - never the seemingly insignificant ones of visiting with family on the weekends or taking a walk around the neighborhood. I surely don't have a single picture of myself riding my bike or on roller skates. Which is fine. But is it wrong that now we capture those shots? It would be if that's ALL we did. If we weren't in the midst of the moment, as well. I think that I noticed that at a concert recently. I took a few shots, and tried to record a moment or two (ssssh), and then realized, put the phone away. Enjoy yourself. You paid to hear and see and live and experience. And there's no need to document. But is it any different than when I hit concerts growing up and brought a camera? A 35mm or my digital? Yes and no. I don't know why, it just is.

Well, I guess this turned into a PYHO type of post, after all. Heh.

I'm also linking up with Diana Stone of Diana Wrote for Glimpses and Greta at gfunkified for #iPPP (even though I don't have an iPhone - she said it's okay!).

So, how was your weekend? Are you able to enjoy the weather where you are? Is fall there yet? Have you had your first Pumpkin Spice Latte of the not-quite-season? Are you ready for my birthday? I mean ... Halloween ...? I'm SO not. Seriously. Not. Ready. I still have so much to do. 

Guess I better get started. What to do first ...? Maybe I'll start with a cup of coffee. Sounds easy enough. Catch y'all later. #Cheers

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Parenting is hard, yo.

Parenting is hard, yo.

Sometimes you find yourself bending over backwards to entertain, to keep them busy, to bring the fun and joy into it all.

And some days they listen. And do. And say 'Mommy, I love you,' from the back of the car and you smile and feel blessed. 

And some nights they cry out for you, and they have a fever and you worry and they need you and so you stay. 

All night. Sleeping or not, by their side. 

Glasses on. Pillows missing. An instant crick in your neck.

Choppy night but you wouldn't be anywhere else. 

And then they are better. Thank goodness.

And you take them to see the fireworks because they really want to go. They've been waiting for days. Weeks, even.

And the next day you go to the movies. And the baseball game. And eat popcorn and cotton candy and custard.

All the things you probably shouldn't give in on but you do.

And the day after that you make plans. And she shows she doesn't know how to listen. And you're done. 

And it sucks. 

So very much.

Because it's a really long weekend and you have plans. You want to go out on the water, take her fishing and ride the waves. You want to do all these things and more. 

But you're spent. You're exhausted. You're tired and you don't understand why she switches from on to off and off to on and never gives you warning. Or maybe you just missed it. The warning. There has to be one, right?

Because she's six. And you say that you expect this, and yet you expect more from a six-year-old, and yet you don't, right? I mean, what should you expect?

Sigh.

And you find yourself near tears because you just don't know. 

And then you feel guilty because you wonder if this is your fault.

Because she is only six, after all. 

And so you question whether you were too quick to react. Too overloaded. Maybe it was your husband. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was the two of you combined. 

Maybe it really was her. 

And so you come home, and you wait. You issue her instructions. Directions. Hopes she can follow and you can still have your plans later today. 

Because it sucks when you have to reprimand your kid and then you lose out, too. 

You're home and you're reading or writing when you'd rather be out on the water yourselves. 

But you can't. 

And so there you are. 

Grumbling. Stressing. Thinking. Holding back tears and making sure they don't fall. 

You don't need to be crying. You're okay. You will be fine. 

You all will. The three of you.

It just takes time. 

There will be bumps and bruises and bumbles along the way. 

But you'll expect them now. And even if you don't, you'll get through them. Past them. Over them. 

Parenting's hard, yo. 

But you can do it. 

And you will. 

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What I need to remember.

So many moments passed me by over the course of this last year.

So many memories whizzing along. Speed of light. Sound.

Headaches over homework.

Battles over what shoes to wear.

Everything I need to know I learned in Kindergarten.

Please eat your breakfast.

Fun and fancy kid-friendly lunches.

A lost spoon.  An overreaction. I'm only human.

Sharing thankfuls.

Big dreams.

Feeling broken.

The unexpected importance of colors.

Mornings.

Fact or fiction?

Musical memories.

Smiles. Laughter. A year with few tears.

Except mine. Because I missed her.

Now she's home. Our summer begins.

With a 6-year-old smile to wake up with in the morning. Spend time with each day.

Mind racing, fighting bedtime each night. Thoughts, ideas, memories flowing.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

* Except camp. She WILL have camp!

* Oh, and I'd LOVE it if she'd go to bed somewhat easily. This mama isn't ready to invite Samuel L. Jackson over again.

 

* Linking up this week with Pour Your Heart Out at Things I Can't Say

AND

Memories Captured at These Little Waves and Writing, Wishing *

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Colorful Moments

I haven't really written about fitness much these days.

I'm not sure exactly why. I used to do these posts on Sundays, and then I just drifted away from them.

I like writing them now and then, but having the same post on the same day every single week is just not my blogging style. Which I don't truly have, I suppose. But it's all good.

But today I want to talk some fitness, honestly.

I am finding mine, finding my way back to it, not all the way there, but I'm good and I like it.

Yesterday I did the Color Mania 5K with my daughter and some friends. We had an awesome time. Seriously. So much fun. What a colorful mess, for real. We walked it, and it didn't matter one bit. We just made our way, with the kids, and loved every second of it. The kids did, too.

** Random side note as I recognized where this post is headed ... Uhm, I just realized part of my post is going to coincide with Jana's Sunday meme... so maybe I'll link up! See below for directions ... **

Anyway, my daughter. My six-year-old. She came with me.

And she walked.

The whole thing. The entire 5K.

And she loved it. She loved the colors in our hair. The running up ahead and finding the next color. The jumping over muddy puddles wherever she could find them.

She loved it.

A few weeks ago I did the Dirty Girl Mud Run. She wanted to come with me. When I got home, she asked me why she couldn't, and I explained that you have to be 14. We'll do it together then, I told her. And I meant it. Eight years from now. I'll be 48. (Mother of holy cow!) But I plan on doing it. Damned if I don't, is my mindset. Why the hell wouldn't I be able to?

She knows her mama did a mud run. Climbed things and crawled through things and wound up wet and pretty muddy and dirty and it was all okay.

She knows we did the "race" yesterday, but nobody "won" - - we just did it. We walked and ran with friends and MOVED. And it was AWESOME.

After showering yesterday we found ourselves headed to the park to fly a new kite my husband picked up. Some time running around - *me with my phone in the car!* - and climbing and sliding and jumping at the playground. She broke a sweat. Her cheeks were flushed. She ran.

She loved it.

I was a tiny girl when I was 3. 4. 5. Maybe 6, even. When did I start to gain weight? I don't know. I do know that my 6th grade class picture shows a much chubbier me. I don't want that for my daughter. Health is first, of course, but I don't want her to see a chubby self. I don't want her to think fitness is evil and gym class is terrifying.

At the store the other day, and today, even, she found hula hoops. She showed me she tries. She does it in school. It's fun. And awesome. AND FUN.

Me? I hated my junior high school gym clothes more than anything I could ever imagine. EVER. Changing in front of those girls? Ugh. And I had friends. I didn't really have enemies. And it still sucked.

Have you ever heard of Joyce Leslie? It's a store. A clothing store. The dressing room? Communal.

What the eff?

You heard me. COMMUNAL.

Can you imagine going in there growing up? It was strange. We did it, because we just did. But still. COMMUNITY DRESSING ROOM, PEOPLE.

I flashed back to that after the mud run, actually. We walked from the car to go get changed. Walked into this big huge tent and ... ta dah! Community changing and cleaning area.

But this was different. Nobody cared. Nobody looked. And hell, if they did? I didn't give two - - uhm - - well, you get me. You know why? Because I didn't just feel like the last kid picked to play basketball. I didn't worry that running around track would give me an asthma attack even though I've never even HAD asthma. I just finished a mother effing MUD RUN. I WAS A DIRTY GIRL. I earned that. And every single one of us in that room had done just that.

So did we care who was changing where? Short of hoping not to have someone walk into the tent and right into my bare backside - nope. Not at all. Because we weren't looking. We didn't care. We just wanted out of our wet and dirty and chilly clothes and to feel ever-so-slightly clean.

Now, where was I? Oh, right. Mud Run? #lifelist entry number I don't know exactly what? Check. Done. I did it. I'm happy as a dirty girl and I did it.

* Why do I fear the kinds of searches that might bring people here with all this Dirty Girl talk? Oy. *

Anyway, back to finding fitness. Jana's prompt today is Pass it on. Stream of Consciousness Sundays is a fun weekly brain dump. It's supposed to be five minutes of typing, but I think with the subject matter I chose today, Jana will forgive me. Especially since she's Ms. Fitness herself and a kick-ass mother runner!

Part of the Pass It On prompt asks, what is something that you have passed on to your children? My hope? My dream? My prayer, even? My growing enjoyment of MOVEMENT. My love (love?!?) of fitness. My fitspiration.

I hope she feels it now and carries it with her through life.

My friend said to me at the race yesterday how she doesn't want her son learning to run in his 30s. YES. That's it. I get it. I really do. THAT IS IT. Do you get it? Sooner. They need to know and love the movement sooner. NOW. They can love it now.

I want the love I am learning to feel for running, for working out regularly and for moving my body - my whole entire body - to carry into my 6-yo's little being and stay there. Stick there forever.

That's not too much to ask, is it?

* I swear she was so much happier than she looks here! *

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TGIF, I guess.

It's Friday. Whew.

Sort of.

This week has been Dr. Seuss week at school. Which has been fun and awesome and actually not as stressful as one would think.

But this morning waking up the kiddo was torture. For us both.

I actually woke up pretty quickly today. First alarm, no back-up needed (what, you don't have one? You totally should!). She was impossible. Zonked out like nobody's business.

Eventually she got up - bathroom - dressed - came downstairs.

Me, as the incredible mom of the month, I realized that it was March 1st. Time to bring in her book log. I'm awful, I don't always keep on top of it and yes, I write it out. Because it's like the longest process of our lives if she does it every month. It was causing battles and I didn't want to go there. Maybe it's wrong of me, but so be it. She reads, she reads well, and we discuss the books, etc. She's started reading the books before bed TO me. That's awesome, right?

Dr. Seuss week has rocked, as she has read us Green Eggs and Ham AND The Cat in the Hat. Rock on, my 6-yo delight. Rock on!

This morning we had decided she'd have breakfast and lunch at school today. Why not? She's been good in the AMs as far as eating goes, I figured toss in a break for mommy this morning. Especially since I had that list to do ... ehem.

Cue boredom.

Boredom, you ask?

Yes. Of course. She must have been bored in the five minutes or so we had been downstairs. It was enough time for her to start playing with the gate. You know the one - right? The important one in between our living room and the rest of the house to keep beautiful boxer Bella away from the cats? The cats she does not quite hate or love, but needs to chase at all times? Yes. Yes. Now you're with me. THAT one.

Boing.

"Kiddo, stop playing with the gate. Go brush your teeth."

Boing.

"Come on, leave the gate alone and go brush your teeth."

Me, writing in the remaining books on her list. At the kitchen table. Back to the action.

BOING! Clank! Crash?

"WHAT HAPPENED?"

Her face frozen in fear.

"YOU BROKE THE GATE? HOW DID - HOW COULD YOU? What HAPPENED?"

Cue crying.

Oops.

Yes, she broke the gate. Of course she started crying. She felt bad and I was yelling.

"Come on, kiddo, brush your teeth."

It's not that bad ... (from HER, not me)

"It's not that bad, but it's BROKEN."

Cue more tears.

I didn't mean it ... (her, again)

"I know, kiddo, but you still broke it. I know it was an accident, but you know you shouldn't have been playing with it."

Tears.

"Remember, when something like this happens it's important to say you're sorry. Instead of I didn't mean it," (me, calming down some) "Okay?"

Nods. Tears. Whining.

Mom of the year award goes to?

ME.

The husband comes down with Bella. We have the child sit down for breakfast as it's the easiest way to get her to sit and do something else. She starts crying harder about no breakfast at school.

Lord help me.

This was my morning. The day has to start looking up, right?

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Wednesday thoughts.

Wednesday is a weird day, isn't it?

Mine is WAY better today because the incredible ladies over at The Dose of Reality have featured me over there today and all of their amazing readers are coming by and giving me loads of love.

And it's a brutal post, but Lisa and Ashley asked so nicely I couldn't say no.

Sure - I said. Go link me up!! And then I re-read my post.

Dayum. - I thought aloud. Who thinks aloud? It's like, allowed, aloud. out loud. What?

It's always in novels and it makes me laugh. I think it should be I said out loud, instead of aloud. Is aloud even a word? It's totally not showing up red and squiggly vis-a-vi spellcheck so I'm gonna go with yes.

Anyway, I read my post again and whoa. It's rough stuff. But I love that every comment reminds me it's totally normal. It's okay to be normal, be cranky and BE A MOM.

In case you're checking this later in the week, the post they spotlight me in is A Spoonful of Frustration. Do you remember that one?

Go follow the trail of breadcrumbs and no doubt you will.

It's Dr. Seuss week this week at my daughter's school.

Monday was wacky socks day. Tuesday was Green Day (not to be confused with the band, who has the Time of Your Life song that I love - which is not to be confused with the best movie of all time, Dirty Dancing, which has the OTHER Time of Your Life song that I also kind of love, only not nearly as much).

Where was I?

Today was wacky hair day.

Tomorrow is hat day. Friday is kind of free day, focus on reading. Lots and lots of reading.

Reading is fun. Or fundamental. Or something. Isn't that Shaq's commercial?

Okay, where was I again?

Right. My child finished her homework and is now playing with the *I*Pad next to me and singing loudly at those creatures that sing back to you. It's like the copying game ten-fold. Seriously. It's amazing. And when she was little it was cute. She loved them. But now she's louder than they are. Ow. Bestill my ears. And head.

Did you know you could create your own ecard of the famous variety that everyone can pin and repin and so forth? I just did one. Whatcha think?

I think every mom can relate. Probably some dads, too. Although I feel like dads get more bathroom privacy. Maybe they demand it better?

I'm thinking that this could mesh with my You Know You're a Mom When series, because all of this applies, as does the post that the Dose of Reality Girls share for me is one that meshes, as well.

So, what say you?

Want to share some of your own Moments of Motherhood with me today?

Also? p.s. Right now the child AND the *I*Pad are singing:

I took the world and she's ON FIYAAAHHHHH!!!!

She's WALKIN' SHE'S WALKIN She's WALKIN ON FIYAHHHH!!!!

Take that Alicia Keys.

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Overdue Recap.

Hey, peeps.

I've got so much to say and my mind just hasn't given me the chance to say it lately.

It's Saturday night and today I went to two birthday parties with my daughter, and a baby sprinkle for a friend. It was fun, having a few hours in the midst of 5 and 6yo chaos, to have grown-up conversation. And eat a grown-up meal.

And it snowed today.

I mean ALL DAY LONG.

Look at how pretty my backyard looks! And this was only about an hour or so into it all.

You'd think we'd be knee deep in it by now, but, alas, it's not sticking. So it's pretty, but not much to play in. For the kiddo - of course. Not me.

I was happy it was cold enough that I could wear my new (ish-I wore them once or twice before) boots. I bought them before the season with hopes I'd get to wear them at all. And they're cute, and comfortable. And kind of cozy, too.

I'm trying to find them on Skechers' website without any luck. But trust me. They're cute.

You'd think after a party-filled day that included McDonald's with Daddy and the play area and a cookie, two cupcakes (icing only) and an ice cream dixie cup (are they even called that anymore?) my kiddo would be crashed by now, right? Wrong. She's watching Despicable Me and standing/sliding around with/on her scooter. Oops. By the way? I love this movie. Did you know there is a sequel coming out? I canNOT wait. Seriously. tee hee.

Also, if you didn't know, my kiddo turned six last weekend. I started to write a post and just let myself get caught up in celebrating her and enjoying our time together and decided, you know what? I'm going to skip it. For the time being, anyway. It's all good. Let's just say she had a great day.

We're closing in on the end of Girl Scout Cookie sales. Not quite there yet, but getting close. I have to order a few more cases, and it's not too late to order for the men and women of our military, so let me know if you'd like to do that and I can hook you up. These people are giving us their lives, friends. We can afford 3.50 to cover one box of cookies for them, right? It's like one latte or making 2-3 cups of regular simple ole java at home. Easy peasy. (What IS peasy, exactly? And who invented this saying?)

I was over at Shell's place yesterday. I shared my Things I Can't Say post. I had a lot to say. Not that I can't say it here, or won't, since I say almost any and everything, it just was something that came to me and seemed right. So I talk Mommy/Women Wars and I would love if you popped by and left a comment if you feel so inspired. Or not. It's all good with me.

And tomorrow or Monday I'll be over at Mama's Comfort Camp posting about my experience there and thoughts about what a new mom, old mom, ANY mom needs for her support system. Feel free to peek in over there and if I'm not up yet forgive me. I'll do my best to update as soon as I know it's live.

Alright, I think that's it. I'm tired. I need my own bed.

Oh, I also am monitoring my steps now. I got a FitBit Zip from Verizon Wireless (I'm a #VZWA - I think you knew that by now, but if not check it by looking up the hashtag on Twitter, because I'm too lazy to provide you a link here.) and am pretty excited. It's attached to me at al(most)l times. We'll see how it goes when I use it for the full day, because today's total steps is pretty dinky and I'm not sure I'm believing it.

Anyway - hi and hugs and bye and love and all that jazz to you all.

Also? What's with all these Facebook "meme" type things that ask you to name a movie title without an "s" in it (as if that's hard!) and a fruit or vegetable without an "a" (much, MUCH harder!)? I'm too tired to think about this hooey AND I need to stop a cat from attacking a box from a case of - fortunately empty - Girl Scout Cookies. And remember, Operation Cookie Drop, where you give to those who give so much to us all. $3.50, people. That. Is. All.

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You know you're a mom when ...

It's that time of the week again.

Time to share your moments of motherhood with us all.

I love that so many of you linked up with me last week, and I will remind everyone that old posts are welcome, as well as new and current ones.

I'm just happy to see some smiling faces on the other end of those links!

Today's post is perfect timing.

My daughter was home today with a fever.

Boo, hiss, right? Stinks.

You know you're a mom when you sleep with one ear open for the child with the fever, and wake up with a start when you realize she slept all night long and you were dead to the world.

OMGAHHHH! Is she OKAY????

She was. Whew.

You know you're a mom when you can slip in and out of her bedroom, stick a thermometer in her ear all without waking her so you can decide that yes, she DOES need to stay home today. But whew. She can sleep in a bit and give you a few moments of solitude before the day truly begins.

You also know your role when you take on the part of waitstaff as your child sits on the couch - snotty and stuffy - staring with her glazed over eyes at the TV for the last few hours.

Soup? Why, of course!

Perry (of Phineas and Ferb fame) for your first course. Princesses for your second.

You know you're a mom when you can manage to sell $42 worth of Girl Scout Cookies, while maintaining your cool, keeping your dogs calm and your child from freezing after running outside in her pajamas - all in the span of 15 minutes.

And when you manage to single-handedly roll up hot dogs in crescent rolls and get the oven going.

And when you find yourself eating three empty crescent rolls for your own dinner.

After your lunch, or what wasn't stolen of it, consisted of TGI Friday's frozen spinach and artichoke dip and chips. Yesterday WAS Super Bowl Sunday, after all. And being the mom that you are, you pulled together an extremely enjoyable spread of TGIF Mozzarella sticks, Anytizer Chicken Fries (ranch flavored, which was weird, but good at the same time), the aforementioned spinach-artichoke dip (which, being the smart mom that you are, you stocked up and bought two of!) and cheese/pepperoni/crackers and Cheetos. Beautiful, right? Being the social media mom that you are you SHOULD have taken pictures. But you didn't. So, yeah.

Instead you dove into the Peanut Butter sandwich GS cookies, which aren't even your favorites, but give you three instead of two, so you could eat like six - right before bed - after not working out for the entire weekend, unless you count wrangling five 5-year-olds as they sold cookies in front of the local Kroger.

You're also obviously a mom when you sit your sick kid in front of your laptop just so you can have a few hours of TV time and catch up on General Hospital.

FRISCO'S BACK, Y'ALL!! *I haven't seen him yet and admittedly am terrified, did you get a look at him on DWTS? EEk. And he'd better have long hair, or else. I mean it. Totally. And can SOMEONE get Robert out of that freakin' coma?*

Only to be distracted after you finish an episode when you spot Jason on his new stupid show of Y&R. Damn him. He's still Jason. Sorry. I just don't see this Dylan/Mac character working out.

Now, where was I?

Right. Writing this while listening to the annoying and fairly odd parents in the background.

And craving spinach. But I don't think I have any. Or tissues. Totally need tissues.

So, there you have it. Today's ramble. Please consider linking up below with me this week to share your mommy moments. I'd love it if you linked back over here but I've yet to turn my "button" into one that links you over, so I forgive myself for slacking if you forgive me, too.

Ciao! Au revoir! Hasta la vista! Adios! Shalom! Bona note!

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1. 5 Reasons Why I am Not a Hockey Mom

2. Sorry Kids, Mommy Is A Moron

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