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I'm putting my Money on the Founding Fathers

I have avoided politics throughout this whole election.  I have my views, some the candidate I will support share and some he differs vastly with me.  And I'm ok with that.  I have made a choice on who I believe will be the best representative to this country.  The country I wake up every morning and go to work and support.

I know that there will never be a human being that is the perfect President.  You have to have certain character traits to even seek the office.  Character traits that many of us would find intolerable in a friend or partner.  And let's be honest 95% of what is said on the campaign trail is an idealistic representation of a person's views or opinions, scripted to play to the most influential audience where every word has been so measured and calculated there is hardly a genuine thought.  And at the end of the day, regardless who holds the title of President for the next four years, very little will change.

You may say that sounds defeatist or resigned of jaded.  But in truth, that is what I am banking on.  Because more than any one person, I believe in our system of government.  While many will lambast the Congress or the President (or both) for not getting anything done, most don't realize that this is exactly what the founding fathers had intended.  A government that was slow to move.  A government that had to work very hard to realize the smallest changes.

Our founding fathers crafted a system of government that placed numerous checks and balances against itself in order to protect our nation from any one person, any one body or any one view point.  Think about it - there is very little the President can do without Congressional concurrence.  And that crazy Congress can hardly get it's two house to agree and lives under the constant threat of the veto pen.  Throw the Supreme Court into the mix and you have a recipe for inefficiency.  Oh, yeah, and if things weren't complicated enough then add in the political parties, regional alliances and local issues.  Honestly, it's a pretty awe inspiring feat when all of those competitive bodies and priorities line up and a law get's passed. 

So while I have my favorite that I will go in and back tomorrow, in the end, I'm putting my money on the founding fathers!

All of this to say that despite the divisive rhetoric that is going around and the pandering to swing voters, the bottom line is very little will change due to the outcome of tomorrow's election.  The Middle East will still be a mess.  Unemployment will still be high.  Jobs will likely continue to grow and we can still count on two things in this lifetime - taxes and death!  I'm confident in saying that a Romney White House will not roll back women's rights and a Obama White House will not lead to the destruction of our nation.  Regardless who is President this Country will continue to face challenges and regardless who is President I'll agree with some decisions while disagreeing with others.

More than "my guy" winning tomorrow, I hope that each individual person can take pride in the roll that they played in our democratic process and recognize that it is just that . . . a process.  There is no absolute right and there is no absolute wrong.  We are each, in the words of the wise Daniel Tiger, going to need to "stop, think and choose."  And at the end of the day, when the votes are tallied and we find ourselves on the losing end of the vote we need to take a few minutes and try to find the good in the majority's pick.

It strikes me that there must have been the same passion during elections in the past. They have come during times of war, economic crisis and scandal - but something has changed and that is the ability for all of us to share our uncensored thoughts at any time, from any location with the masses.  To quickly tweet out anger or impulsive thoughts that were once upon a time kept within one's own house.  Social Media has exacerbated the "mob mentality" and brought it into our living rooms.

And what is even scarier is that our adversaries are watching every word of this.  Watching us pick ourselves apart and making assumptions about the strength and cohesiveness of our nation.  That to me is truly frightening.  Because I still believe, Red or Blue, Romney or Obama we are strongest when we are on nation under God.

Tomorrow I hope that anyone who is reading this takes a few minutes before hitting post on facebook or submit on twitter and instead of adding to the divide you try to find something good to say - and if not take the advice given by mother's over the generations and "keep your thoughts to yourself."

And that is all I have to say about that!

More Fall Fun

Today was another beautiful fall day.  While Matt raked the yard the boys got some fresh air.  Looking out the bedroom window I couldn't help but grab our camera and go capture some of the fun!  

Sam was really hamming it up for the camera.  I love that he was so carefree!  Will was running around like a lunatic - I got more pictures of his back as he ran away than anything else.

I've been wanting to learn more about our digital camera and some basic digital editing and have been spending some of my new found free time scouring the forums at www.clickinmoms.com .  I've picked up a few pointers that I have begun to put into practice.  While I'm sure these pictures are not technically perfect I think they capture just how much fun a big pile of leaves can be!

A Perfect Fall Morning

 There is just something about the smell of fall that I love.  It's crisp and earthy.  And the air is dry and fresh.  It makes your cheeks hot and your nose sting and let's your breathe deeper than the hot humid air that is so common here during the summer months. 

Along with all those wonderful attributes also come shorter days.  The loss of day light seems to have a strong effect on my mood.  So I'm making sure I pop my Vitamin D daily and I'm trying to take advantage of the day light before the cold of winter sets in.

This morning I bundled up the boys, strapped them in the stroller and headed out for a walk with a friend.  It was . . . PERFECT.  We stopped at a farmers market and picked up fresh baked pumpkin bread, took a leisurely stroll along the creek and then the boys spent some of their energy at the play ground. 

 We came home, red (and runny) nosed, and rewarded ourselves with some of that pumpkin bread, an episode of Daniel Tiger and a mug of hot coffee (that last one is just for me). 

One of the real gifts of the 3-day was learning how much better I feel with a little bit of physical activity and some fresh air.  Now we are going to snuggle in for a fall afternoon nap.  Happy Saturday!

The Cat and the Hat: Zombie Edition

Halloween has come and gone but thanks to the modern miracle of film (or digital pictures) the memories can live on forever. 

This year we dressed the boys up as Thing 1 and Thing 2.  This is something I had been looking forward too since the day Will was born (literally).  And to complete the ensemble I went a little crazy with the black eye liner and threw on a hat and tie.

Halloween 2012 - The Cat and Thing 1 and 2

The boys were clearly not as excited about this get up as I was.  And the white face paint may have been taking things just a little too far.  Instead of cute "Things" they ended up looking like Zombies.  This was the BEST picture we had -- YIKES!

They did however enjoy going house to house.  We had been talking to Sam about Trick of Treating all week and he was raring to go when we hit the first house.  He was so excited he walked right past the woman who answered the door and into her home.  We had to re-explain the finer points of trick or treating and then all was back on track.

It's really nice, our neighbors get an annual permit and shut down our street so the kids have a safe and car free place to run up and down.  And the residents go all out, decorating their houses and dressing up.  Will made it about halfway before his little legs got too tired.  Dad carried him the rest of the way while Sam politely asked for a second piece of candy and promptly put it in Will's bucket.  

And while Thing 1 and Thing 2 were big hits around the neighborhood, I think Matt's Pumpkins stole the show.   They even made it into PBS's internal newsletter! 

Daniel Tiger and Simba Pumpkins

What Now?

After spending the better part of the last year planning and fundraising for the DC 3-Day and all of my free time the last couple of months training I've been enjoying a little bit of down time.  I've enjoyed some weekend morning snuggle sessions with the boys and leisurely breakfasts with the family.  I've stayed in my PJs way later than I should!

But I'm also feeling a bit at loose ends.  I have a lot of found time that I didn't have a few weeks ago and I don't want to loose the motivation for physical activity I have built up.  I find myself asking "What now?"

I think I'm in need of another challenge.  Something to work towards - to keep me moving forward.  So I've set a goal, one that I have always wanted to do but never thought I had the physical ability to achieve: running a 5K.  (Note: I use the word run VERY loosely).

I'm told I need to sign up for a 5K to keep my motivation high - anyone have a good winter run they would suggest?  It definitely needs to be one that is not super competitive otherwise I will totally chicken out!

To get me there I started the Couch to 5K program once again (I stopped counting after 3 previous failed attempts).  I think I'm in a better place this time.  The 3-Day was a gift in many ways.  It showed me that I am physically much stronger than I ever gave myself credit for, it taught me the difference between muscle aches and true pain that needs treatment, it helped me develop a mental toughness to push through when giving up seems so much easier and it helped me realize that if I put my mind and some time towards something I can get it done.  The walk definitely gave me a confidence in myself that I never had before.  And before that confidence starts to fade I'm going to use it to tackle a 5K!

A couple of people have told me that a 5K should be a piece of cake after walking 60 miles.  And if we were talking about walking I would be in total agreement.  A 5K was a weekend morning warm up.  But we are talking about RUNNING.  This is a huge mental hurdle for me.  I have NEVER run.  I use to find excuses not to participate in the annual 1 mile run physical fitness test in gym.  I only joined sports that did not involve running.  I was an elementary school fun run drop out.  Seriously, my hatred of running goes all the way back to 3rd grade!  This is some deep in-grained fear.

So I'm going to set out like I did for the 3-day.  One day at a time.  One step at a time.  One foot in front of the other.  And just to add a little bit of motivation to the pot, I am not going to make a decision on walking the 3-Day this year until I cross running a 5K off my bucket list. 

Zero to Sixty

I did it!  WE did it!  Last weekend was the 3-day.  I feel like I have been preparing for this FOREVER.  And now that it is over I've been trying to wrap my mind around the emotions of the weekend. 

First I want to say a big, huge THANK YOU to every body who supported me and the rest of Linda's Ladies with your donations, your love, and your cheers.  We could not have done it without you.  And because of you Linda's Ladies raised $19,500.

$19,500! 

We were so proud to be able to contribute to the $3.8 million that was raised by the Washington D.C. 3-day! 

And I couldn't have asked to share this journey with a better group of women.  Did I mention three of them were pregnant??!?!  That's dedication!

I won't say the weekend was easy.  In fact it was one of the hardest things I have ever done.  But surprisingly it was not the physical challenge that almost broke me, it was the emotional one. 

The last year, I have poured my anger and grief into preparing for this walk.  And while I was walking and fundraising and blogging I worked through a lot of my pain.  The pain is still there but it has faded into background noise.  Something that is always there but something I have learned to live along side of.  A quiet imissmymomimissmymomimissmymom.  Sometimes it bubbles up to the surface and breaks through IMISSMYMOM! But it soon returns to the hum that just kind of simmers as the rest of life takes center stage. 

But not last weekend.  Last weekend that low hum became a scream I FUCKING MISS MY MOM!  I HATE THIS WALK.  I WANT HER HERE.  WHY ME.  WHY HER.  WHY?  And with every foot step I was washed over with grief.  I had ugly moments that were full of jealousy.  Jealousy over the women who got to walk side by side with their moms.  Jealousy over the mom's who were waiting at the finish line to hug their daughters.  And loneliness.  Even while surrounded by people who have their own stories, I felt lonely.

Saturday afternoon just about broke me.  Overtired. Fighting a cold.  Racing to stay ahead of the sweep van.  I was physically exhausted and emotionally drained. 

There were four miles that I think summarized my whole three day experience.  It was during that low point on Saturday.  My teammates and I separated and I ended up walking this four mile stretch alone.  I think I spent the first two miles feeling completely sorry for myself.  I know the tears were flowing and the thing that propelled me forward was anger.  My thighs were throbbing, my calves were tight and my heart was broken.  The thought that I might just not be emotionally strong enough for this kept running through my head.

And then someone slipped their arm through mine.  The woman said "you got this.  You got it!  Let's go."  And for the next couple of minutes I walked like that.  Arm and arm with this stranger that I had never met before.  Her mom took my other side and we shared our stories.  We shared some tears.  And they kept me between them for a while.  The anger faded a little bit and the tears turned to laughter.  It wouldn't be the last time that I cried but it would be the last time I would question my emotional strength.   During those steps I found an inner strength I did not think I had and that strength is what carried me through to the finish line.  

I think I falsely convinced myself that I would find some big answers this weekend.  That somehow conquering the 3-day would make losing my mom a little bit easier.  That somehow, magically that constant hum would stop nagging me.  During those four miles I think I accepted that would never be the case.  I accepted that I would always be a little bit broken and nothing would ever be able to fix that.  No amount of money.  No amount of walking.  Nothing.  It was a freeing moment.  Acceptance.

I accept that I will always hurt.  I accept that I will be jealous of what others still have.  I accept that I will get angry.  I accept that there will be times I'm lonely.  I accept that the tears will come.  And I accept that I will forever live along side this constant hum "imissmymomimissmymomimissmymom."

On Sunday I crossed the finish line arm and arm with Linda's Ladies joined by Sam and Will.  Looking at those women, my friends and my boys it all came together.  The link between the past the present and the future was right there.  My mom, my friends and my boys.  I did this for all of them.  And you know what.  I just might do it again!

Moving Beyond Awareness

Hi!

I know I have been MIA.  Life has been busy and most days I'm trying to keep up with the boys and the to do lists.  But everything is good.  We had a wonderful vacation where family joined us and the boys were surrounded by sand and sea and love.  The days have turned into weeks and weeks have turned into months.  Time is flying!

We are also closing in on the kick off of the 3-day walk.  I feel like I started this journey a lifetime ago and I'm not sure how I feel about it soon coming to an end.  Maybe I'll write about that all soon.  But today I wanted to write about something that I have written about before but as time passes I feel a growing urgency to share again.

It's October, which means the nation turns pink.  Many major brands roll out pink products all with proceeds going towards one breast cancer charity or another.  Even the NFL goes pink for October.  Don't get me wrong I love pink and I get a little choked up when I see those big brawly men decked out in hot pink but the message is the same message it has been for over a decade; one of awareness and screenings.  Totally important but I'd be shocked if you could show me someone who is naive about the risks of breast cancer and the need for annual screening.

Advocacy is important but research is critical.  Research is what is going to find a cure.  Research is what is going to save lives.  I get a little bit annoyed when I read about a company's charitable campaign and education is still the initiative that is front and center.  We need to move research up to the forefront.  October can't just be about breast cancer awareness anymore because awareness is not enough.  There's a lot of awareness out there and yet the statistics are startling. 108 women die from breast cancer every day. 

Stop and think about that for a minute. While I walk 60 miles in 3 days 324 women will die from Breast Cancer and 2,301 will receive the life changing diagnosis.  This is just not OK.

Education and screening might shrink that number slightly but research is what will lead to prevention and a cure and anything short of that is simply not good enough in my mind.  If we want to see a day when our kids don't have to worry about breast cancer the way we do then the time is now to shift the conversation.

So what can you do?  Ask where your money is going.  Make sure that the cute pink shirt or bracelet you buy funds more than just awareness.  Look into the organizations you donate to and find out what the funds are used for.

And while you are at it consider being part of the cure by joining the Health of Women (HOW) study which is being conducted by the Susan Love Research Foundation.  If you are a woman you qualify.  If you are a man with high risk factors they want you too. 

The goal of the HOW Study is to carefully study a large group of women and men over time to investigate the causes of breast cancer. In order to do this, they will need to include all ages, ethnicities, and races, as well as to compare those who have been diagnosed with breast cancer to those who have not. The HOW Study will ask you to answer questions about your health and health habits over time to give us a view of what people are doing and how their health is being affected.  In return for your time you get the satisfaction of being part of something that could change the future!

Let's make this October about more than just pink ribbons. 

The Dance

My brother will never dance with my mom at his wedding.

It’s weird how that is one of the things that resonates so strongly with me.  That thought first hit me when my mom was laying in the hospital during her last days, and it has come back to me often.

A moment.  That will never be.  Lost.

I’ve cried for that lost moment many times.  

Dancing with Joe at my wedding

My brother, Joseph’s relationship with my mom was very different than mine.  They didn’t talk every day.  They drove each other simultaneously crazy.  My mom with her hovering, my brother with his fierce independent streak.  They both struggled to be able to give the other what they needed.  

But they loved each other in the purest of  ways.  Fiercely.  My brother with the fiercest of loyalty and my mom with the fiercest of heart.  The two of them, beacons of strength.  So different but so the same.  

When my mom died it was Joseph that I worried the most for.  He’s the strong silent type keeping a lot inside.  A rock.  His silent sobs at her burial were my undoing.  My already broken heart shattered.  The weight of all the moments that would never be turned me inside out.

My brother will never dance with my mom at his wedding.

That sentence paralyzes me.  It is the very essence that haunts the inner corners of my heart.  A worry so deep I don’t know how to break its hold. 

Because,

I am a mom.

I have a son (I have two sons).

I will dance with them at their wedding. 

Re-charged

I love being a mom. I love my kids. I love my job. I love my husband. But boy have I been tired.

Matt and I don't live close to any of our family so time alone has been pretty non-existent since Sam was born. Juggling jobs and kids and the house and everything that comes along with all of that left us a little flat. Left me going through the motions more often than I would like.

So when Matt got the opportunity to head to Aspen for work (a hard assignment covering the Food and Wine Classic) and Grandma Barb and Grandpa Lanny agreed to watch the kids, we booked the first flight out and the last flight back.

Victoria's Amazing latte, me and my culinary idol Jose Andres, Lunch - wine included

Matt had to work during the days so I did some walking along some beautiful Aspen trails, window shopped along the amazing Aspen shops, people watched, drank amazing lattes (Thank you Victoria's), sipped yummy wines and had leisurely lunches and read some good books. I even got to rub elbows with a couple of my favorite celebrity chefs.

Some beautiful views and a refreshed Mom and Dad

The evenings were spent reconnecting with Matt. Sharing meals and wine and conversation that went beyond diapers and bed times and the daily doings of our two little monsters. Don't get me wrong, there was plenty of talking about the kids, but also plenty of talking -- just talking. It was nice. And I think it is just what we needed.

I drowned myself in the clean Mountain Air, stuck my feet in the Roaring Fork River, spent some time inside my own head and enjoyed not having deadlines or schedules or anyone but me to answer too. It's been a very long time since I had that kind of time to myself.

I missed the kids. I missed the kids like crazy. Grandma Barb would send us videos each day which both made my heart swell and sting at the same time.

But the time away was rejuvenating.  Even though we got in late Sunday night (or actually very early Monday morning), I have a renewed energy, especially when it comes to being a mom.

We are so very grateful for Grandma Barb and Grandpa Lanny and this opportunity they gave us to recharge.  And the boys . . . well they had the time of their life.  I have a sneaking suspicion that Grandma and Grandpa may have spoiled them just a little :-).  They have decided they no longer like to wear pants.  They talk more, run more, climb more.  I swear they grew like whole years while we were gone. 

My monkeys -- sans pants!

Accountability - Week 13

May was a terrible month for training (and accountability) but I am back!  I didn't have a stellar week but I walked more miles than was called for this weekend.  It felt good.  After pushing the boys for seven miles yesterday, today's 4 mile walk was a piece of cake.  I invested in my "hydration system" -- who knew there was such a thing? And picked up some different brands of socks to see which ones I like the best. 

I'm really looking forward to next weekend when we have some "girl walks" planned.  It's been a busy couple of weeks for all of us and I've missed catching up with my friends.  

On the fundraising front I am less than $600 away from exceeding my goal of raising $4600 and Linda's Ladies has raised $10,703.28  I am just so proud of us.  If anyone has any experience in getting corporate donors/sponsors will you drop me a line?  I'd love to pick your brain.

 Accountability - Week 13
Weeks until Walk -20
Funds Raised to Date - $4051.14
Miles Walked to Date - 138.3
Monday - Rest
Tuesday -2.8
Wednesday - Rest
Thursday - 0
Friday - -0
Saturday - 7 miles pushing the kids (that should count for at least 10 right??)
Sunday - 4 miles

Get a Grip

May.

May is just a hard, stressful month for me.  There's a lot of good in May, but it all seems to be overtaken by my mom's death.  It hangs over me and the month sucks the energy right out of me.

Compound that with three weekends out of town, over 70 hours in the car with two toddlers, cleaning out my parent's house and a really heavy workload.  May has kicked my ass. 

To cope, I gave up taking care of me.  When something had to give, I gave up my time to walk.  When my emotions took over I gave up counting points in return for the comfort of a glass (or two) of wine and not-so-good-for-me food. 

It felt good in the moment.  But today I'm feeling sluggish and a wee bit depressed that I let things get this far away from me.  So I went and bought a cookie. 

Yup -- My name is Amanda and I am an emotional eater.

But I felt like crap.  And that cookie tasted like crap.  And you know what, that cookie didn't make me feel any less crappier so I threw two thirds of it in the trash.  It's time for me to get a grip.  There are only a couple more short days left to May and I need to get myself back on track.  Enough wallowing.  Enough giving into the stress.  Enough letting the depression take over.  Enough Enough Enough!

I need to take hold of things again and thrive on that feeling of accomplishment when I loose a couple of pounds.  Thrive on that pride when I meet or exceed my training goals for the week.  Thrive on taking care of myself not just catering to my downtrodden emotions.  I need to put my focus on making my body strong and healthy because when I was doing that my mind felt healthier and stronger.

So even though it's hot as hell here today, I'm going to refuse to make excuses and put my miles in.  And I swear I'm not going to pull that cookie out of the trash :-). 

Happy Tuesday

Just a little Sam and Will to start the short work week!

 

Milestones

It's a big week for Linda's Ladies.  It's a big week for me.

When I set out on this journey last year I committed to raising $2300.  I was nervous.  I hoped I could do it.  I was prepared to put my own money up if I couldn't meet that minimum.  This week I crossed the $4000 mark.  It's unbelievable to me.  I am so grateful that others believe in what I am doing.  I am so grateful that others share the goal, the desire to find a cure and beat breast cancer once and for all.

When I set out on this journey I did it alone.  But I wasn't alone for long.  And today, I am teamed up with five other wonderful women who are passionate about this war.  And as we linked our arms our impact grew exponentially.   This week my team, Linda's Ladies, crossed $10,000!  It's amazing.  I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around it.  And then I think that we are just one team amongst hundreds of teams and millions of individuals who are joined in battle and the weight of what we are doing towards a collective goal leaves me speechless. 

Today I am taking a few minutes to enjoy how far we have come.  I am taking a little time to give thanks for the generosity of friends, family, and even a couple of strangers.  Today I will celebrate all we have accomplished. 

And tomorrow, well tomorrow I'll march on and look back on this milestone week fondly but push towards greater things!  Tomorrow I'll keep walking towards a cure.

Letting Go

When my mom passed away she left a lot of stuff.  A LOT of stuff.  Too much stuff!

I knew my mom had an affinity for garage sales and TJ Maxx and Marshalls and specialty food stores and Lord and Taylors and well you get the picture.  She liked to shop.  It was something we all knew.  It was something we would tease her about from time to time.  But I don't think the full magnitude of her shopping sunk in until she was gone. 

I spent this weekend cleaning out my parent's house.  Trying to get it ready to sell.  Trying to help my Dad get out from under the weight of the house.  Trying to get myself out from under the weight of that house.  Clearing out that house has been a daunting and seemingly impossible task.  On Saturday we filled up a second dumpster and then continued to fill dozens of trash bags full of items to discard and items to donate.  I threw away hundreds (probably thousands) of dollars of out of date food.

I cycled between laughing at my mom, yelling at my mom and crying for my mom.

You see, I don't think my mom liked to shop, I think she needed to shop.  I think shopping was her coping mechanism.  I think when she felt lonely or sad or frightened or frustrated she headed out to buy something. 

In so many ways, my mom and I are alike.  We are both planners (that like to procrastinate in execution) we both like things a particular way and expect everyone else to fall in line.  We both look for ways to control our life in a World that seemed uncontrollable.   And we both have anxiety.  I know my mom had some anxiety.  She voiced some of it to me, but I don't think I ever realized, or she ever realized the magnitude of her anxiety.  I think it was greater than any of us ever understood. 

And it makes me sad.  It makes me sad to think that this strong vibrant woman carried this unspoken weight.  A weight that manifested itself in stuff.  Clothes and makeup and perfume and china sets and table clothes and jewelry and roosters (oh the roosters).

I wonder if the weight of all the stuff ever made her suffocate or if it usually brought her comfort.  I wonder if she really was filling a void in her life with stuff.  That's what it looks and feels like today.  And that thought brings tears to my eyes. 

For the last couple of years I have had a hard time letting go of my mom's stuff.  I have felt like I was betraying her, or being wasteful, or throwing pieces of her away.  But I'm coming to recognize that this stuff is not the part of my mom I want to hold onto.  This stuff is just that, stuff.   And it's the stuff that represented a part of my mom I think she hid from the World.  A secret struggle she didn't really want anyone to know about.  And I hate the stuff.  I hate it for what I think it represented to her, I hate it for the weight it carries for me and my family.  I hate it and I want it gone.  This weekend it wasn't as hard to throw stuff away.

I feel kind of guilty writing about this - like I'm sharing too much of my mom, but I think it's important to share.  It's important because I've come to realize even the strongest women have a chink in their armor.  Even the strongest women have problems.  Even the strongest women need help.  And I wish with all my heart I had known and would have talked to my mom about it.  Listened to her.  Helped her find the help she needed.  Helped her face and shed this weight.  And I hope, wherever she is, she is finally rid of it. 

Enough is Enough

I am lucky to have a lot of mommy friends - or friends that are moms.  Most of them I knew long before the idea of kids even crossed our minds.  They are all amazing women, amazing friends and REALLY amazing moms.

Some breastfed past their baby's first birthday, some struggled to make it to the 6 month mark, some struggled to get started - watching their baby loose weight - and agonized over turning to formula rather than put their baby's health at risk, and some decided that breastfeeding wasn't for them. 

New moms do what new moms do and share their struggles looking for support and understanding and compassion and advice.  I was surprised at what a struggle breastfeeding was, pretty universally, across the board.  And what makes this even harder is the pressure that society puts on new moms.  The constant messages and images that define what a "good mom" looks like, what a "good mom" does.

I've watched this pressure turn logical, brilliant, strong women inside out.

The pressure turned me inside out.  With both of my babies I was determined to breastfeed until the 6 month mark.  But with both of my babies my supply plummeted when I went back to work.  I exhausted myself pumping and feeding around the clock, while working an intense full time job.  I snuck in extra pump sessions at work, gave up my lunch break, pumped in the car on the way to and from work and dissolved into a mess when I would come home and still not have enough for the next day of day care.

Every time I added formula to a bottle to make up the difference I felt like a failure.  I felt like I was doing it wrong.  And at the 5 and a half month mark with both babies, I sobbed as I made the decision to move exclusively to formula.  A decision that was right for me, my sanity, my marriage and my kids.  But that decision made me feel ashamed, made me feel like I wasn't doing the best I could, made me feel inferior.

Where the hell does this pressure come from?  Why is doing the best you can not good enough?  Why do we as moms feel like we have to compete with the best of every other mom or some ideal defined by society?

And breastfeeding is just one of the many many many topics that invoke this self doubt.  Cosleeping, sleep training, baby wearing, organic baby food, homemade baby food, cloth diapers, working, staying home.

It has to stop!  We are creating a generation of moms that constantly judge themselves against an unrealistic ideal.  We are creating a generation of moms who feel like they don't measure up.

There is no "one size fits all" guide to parenting.  There is no formula on how to do it right.  Parenting is not black and white, right and wrong.  Parenting is knowing your baby and trusting your instincts.  Parenting is trial and error and finding what works for you.  Parenting is a journey down a path that winds and splits off in many directions.  Parenting is making the best decision at that moment, celebrating when you took the right path and course correcting when you made a wrong turn.  Parenting is loving, beyond all else, parenting is loving. 

I wish my mom were here so I could ask her if she struggled with these same doubts.  If she had the same nagging feeling that, despite everything she did, she just wasn't doing enough good enough.  Is this just a side effect of being a mom or something else?

Regardless of the answer, there is one thing for sure, the media exploits this desperate need to be the best mom for our children.  They prey on our insecurities, our doubts, our gut wrenching instinct to do everything we can to give our children the best we have.  And to that I say enough is enough.  We are good enough.  In fact, we are better than good enough!

What I Learned about my Kids in 30 Hours

Last Thursday we embarked on a great adventure (or insanely bad idea) -- a trip to Florida. In the car!  Have I mentioned I have a 2 year old and a 1 year old?

For those of you doing the math, that's more than 30 hours of drive time. Not counting meals and stops for the boys to run around and expel energy.

By just about every measure it was a success. The boys handled the car like champs - better than I could have hoped for.

Hour 6 -- Teddy Graham Pit Stop

I thought I knew my kids inside and out but all that time confined to a small space I learned some new things.

Like how Sam likes to sing along to his favorite Sesame Street songs -- and he knows most of the words!

Like how Will likes to do the hand motions to Itsy Bits Spider.

That Sam has a generous heart and would quickly hand over his favorite toy to try to cheer his brother up.

How Sam loves digger trucks and water.  He thinks any kind of water is the Ocean and proclaims it loudly.

Will claps along to songs he likes.

They love to hold hands and laugh at each other.

They have their own language that consists of loud, high pitched shrieks.  Apparently what they say to each other is hysterical because fits of giggles always follow.

Sam narrates every minute of life.

Will points to something he wants and says "this."

Most of all I was reminded how lucky I am to have been chosen to be their Mom.  In the hustle and bustle of the every day it's easy to get frustrated at the little things, go through the motions and miss the moments that make memories.  But this weekend I got over 30 hours of uninterrupted moments with my boys and I enjoyed every one of them (well almost!)

Accountability - Week 9

This week was a walking bust - but I wouldn't have traded it.  We took the boys to Florida to spend some time with their Great Grandparents.  It was a wonderful trip! 


Today I get back on track.
Accountability - Week 8
Weeks until Walk -23
Funds Raised to Date - $3693.14
Miles Walked to Date - 97.85
Monday - Rest
Tuesday - Worked Late
Wednesday - Prepping for Trip
Thursday - Vaca
Friday - Vaca
Saturday - 3 miles in Fl.
Sunday - Vaca

Legacy

Three years ago today I lost my mom. I still sometimes have trouble believing it really happened. It doesn't feel right. A big mistake. I feel like there must be someone I can convince that they got it wrong and then she'll be back.

But logic knows better than that. It did happen. Right or not, my mom is gone.

What is not gone are the values she instilled in me. She taught me what in life is important. And above all else comes family. She taught me to love and respect family. To hold them close. To hold them tight. That no matter distance or time, family is, and always will be the one true constant. Family is her legacy.

So I find it fitting that today, three years after I lost her, I get to honor the most important thing she ever taught me. I get to start passing this lesson down to my kids. How lucky they are to get to know my grandparents. How lucky I am to see the love between these generations.

On the day I have come to dread, I watched my Poppi's eyes light up as his great grandson dissolved into fits of giggles. I watched my son play trucks with his great grandmother. I am so lucky that my mom passed this lesson in love down to me.

My mom may not be here, but today I feel closer to her than I have in a long time.

This week - It's hard!

This week is hard.  

I'm trying to find the words for where I am right now but I'm at a loss. 

The memories of three years ago haunt me.  They feel more real right now.  

Three years ago. 

It feels like an eternity and a second at the same time.  It feels like forever ago that I last got to hug my mom.  It feels like ages since I heard her voice.  And at the same moment I cannot believe everything that has happened since I lost her.  All the moments she hasn't been here to share.  And I still reach for my phone to call her on my way home at night.

And I get angry.  So so so so so so freaking angry that she got robbed of these moments.  That I got robbed of these moments.  And sad. And tired. 

I'm not going to tie this post up with a pretty bow.  Find some big life lesson or attempt to have insight into my emotions.  Sometimes you just need to be mad.  And sad.  And tired.

Yeah, this week is hard!