The Mark of my Faith

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday when Catholics attend Mass and receive ashes on their forehead.

These ashes are applied in the sign of the cross with the words 'Remember you are dust, and unto dust you shall return.'

Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent, a period that is meant to echo Christ's forty days in the desert. A time when we are called to make sacrifices designed to sharpen our focus on Christ's sacrifice for us, and on how we should live our lives in His light.

At least, this is my basic or simplified understanding of Lent - and it is one that I've followed with varying degrees of success or failure (mostly the latter I'm ashamed to say) over the years.

Jay and I received our ashes at Mass yesterday morning while Miss E was at school. We turned up to collect her a little while later and a few steps in the gate of the school I felt the stares, and one mother came right up to me and said 'I have to tell you, you have grease all over your forehead, did you know?'

I instantly felt bad - I felt bad for her that she was trying to be nice and was telling me in case I didn't know, that my face was 'dirty' - but I also felt incredibly awkward in having to explain that it was not grease.

The penny dropped quickly for this mom and she said 'oh yeah, it's Ash Wednesday' then her next question 'Aren't you supposed to wash that off?' And I briefly answered, 'no - part of the point of having the ashes is to wear them all day as a mark of faith'

This happened me last year also, albeit that it was with someone a little more rude.

These experiences bring a multitude of questions for me. Clearly, many people are not aware that ashes are part of the Ash Wednesday ritual for some and this strikes me as odd initially - since I come from an area where the population is pretty much 50% Catholic and 50% non-Catholic - but the non-Catholic population by and large is aware that Catholics receive ashes on Ash Wednesday and so it's not that big of a deal and rarely elicits comments, at least in my experience.

Deeper than this though are the questions these experiences raise about my Catholic faith and how uncomfortable it makes me to have to defend it or explain it - and then I wonder if my discomfort comes from the fact that I don't feel 100% confident in explaining it correctly - and at 36 and a lifelong Catholic, shouldn't I be confident?

Part of my reticence to discuss my faith comes I'm sure from a bad experience after Miss E was born from an Evangelical Christian who pretty much told me Catholicism was wrong, that it was not a true Christian faith and that I was wrong to have Miss E baptised a Catholic. This is a person who loves God, and does on the whole embody what it means to be a Christian - but she refuses to see that we agree on so, so many areas - we are both followers of Christ, the only difference is that I choose to be so within the 'family' of the Catholic Church.

Maybe it's because 'Religion' is one of those taboo topics, like politics, many people don't like to discuss their faith - or hear of someone else's, and so the general trend is to keep mum, and brush it all under the carpet as something personal and private.

But isn't this absolutely contra to the message that Christ give us - to spread the Good News?

I know the answer to this question - yet I am somewhat uncomfortable in discussing my Christian faith in general, or my Catholic faith in particular with people. So does this mean I don't have the strength of faith I thought I had? Maybe - and I'm pretty sure this needs a little work on my part.

Part of what comes as being a life long Catholic is that you fall into a pattern of attending Mass each week, on holidays and holy days - because, that's what you do. But, how much of that time is spent truly absorbing the word of God, and applying that to our lives, families, passing it on to our kids? Like I said, I have work to do.

My parish has a number of Lenten programs running where parishioners have the opportunity to discuss and inquire about our Catholic faith. The fact that these exist reassures me that I may not be alone in feeling this way.

I expect this post will go the same way as my only post on politics - I'll hear cricket's chirping for days! However, please do share what helps you share your faith, if you're happy to do so.

Blubher here I come!

I have just signed up with the great ladies at OurBlubherOverhaul in an effort to help me get my backside in gear. To exercise more diligently, eat right, lose some weight and above all get myself FIT!

If you're struggling with weight loss, and like me need some way to keep yourself accountable (to yourself!), why not check it out and join in!

Step Away From the Chocolate

You know this is what you need to tell yourself when your three year old looks at you in the kitchen and asks:

"Mommy, do you have a baby in your tummy?"

Note to self....

...check weather forecast before embarking on 3 mile hikes around lakes.

My resolution - way back in the autumn, to regularly walk around this lake stumbled somewhat, but has been gaining momentum in the last couple of weeks. I have been enjoying the walk a few times a week in this beautiful weather, and intend to keep it up in these early spring days, because come the summer you won't see me out there for a pension!

Miss E is off preschool today for President's Day - so off we set with the double stroller, water, and some stale bread because she wanted to feed the ducks (a determination she backs down from every.single.time when waddling wildfowl flock around her and freak her out!)

I shoved the kids' coats in the basket of the stroller 'just in case' since the sky was dull, but not threatening at all.

Good move!

Half way around the lake I feel moisture on my face - brushed it off as being mist blowing off the by now choppy water on the lake, (where I thought the mist suddenly appeared from I don't know, meteorology is clearly not my strong point. Nor is checking in with those for whom it is a strength, evidently).

Seconds later, with not a tree for shelter in sight, the skies opened and as only in Florida it can, dumped a monsoon right on top of us.

I scurried to get the kids' coats on - Miss E shrieking that her underpants were getting wet, a testament to how fast and how hard this rain was falling.

With a good mile and a half to go before we got back to the car my options were:

1. Run like a crazy lady, half pushing, and half leaning on the double stroller (with nearly 60 pounds worth of offspring strapped inside),

2. Find a tree and stand under it and wait for the worst to pass,

3. Give in, decide that we are thoroughly soaked, a little more rain won't hurt us and saunter back to the car enjoying the soothing tones of Tim McGraw in the iPod in the process.

Which did I choose?

All of the above, in that order!

At this point I should confess that I had to repeat options 1 and 2 several times, since option 2 was necessary to recover from option 1, and avoid emergency medical intervention.

We eventually got back to the parking lot, and I offered Miss E the option of getting into the dry car - or feeding the ducks.

She opted to feed the ducks.

I half thought the ducks wouldn't be interested and I was right. They were a lot more sensible than us, finding whatever shelter they could from the battering rain.

The geese however were a completely different story. They sniffed out our stale wholewheat from somewhere far away as I hadn't even seen them. Those things can move fast, they're loud and not a bit shy. Suddenly here I was with a gaggle of white geese, which look all white and fluffy and cute from far away, but loud and up close ? Not so much.

Let's just say - Miss E didn't even want to touch the bread. And rather than break off pieces, I threw whole slices of bread as far as I could to get those creatures away from us! The only sliver of pride I had left stopped me from throwing the whole loaf, bag and all at them and letting them duke it out among themselves, lest I make myself out to be a complete chicken in front of bystanders (all two of them stupid enough to stand in the open in this rain).

Lesson learned - future walks only to be undertaken after extensive consultation with the weather forecast. And, you can bet I'll be packin' a brolly!

Crawling into a bubble.

This is what I plan to do for the next week or so.

I am not going to read or watch the news for the immediate future. I can't cry anymore.

Examples of some recent, local news stories:

Mother arrested in drowning death of her 10 month old baby after she left him alone in the bathtub for 10 minutes while she got her other kids ready to bathe.

Man in custody charged with shooting two gas station workers dead, and setting two women alight in a separate incident and seriously burning them, and shooting another man in the face as he tried to help the women. One of these women was 5.5 months pregnant - her baby was born by emergency C section and died a couple of days later. The other woman died last night.

School closed down yesterday as a result of rumours spreading that some kid was going to shoot someone. These rumours spread by cell phone text messages, and thankfully school officials took it seriously - but, what about the next day these kids have to go to school?

I know that these incidents are a harsh reality, and happen all too frequently across the world. I can't process it any more, though.

For just a few days - I want to take myself back to that fizzy anticipation of Christmas that I experienced, and enjoyed, as a child. Those feelings of pure delight and agonizing suspense where in my innocence, oblivious to the darker side of life, I waited for Christmas Eve and the often futile attempts to get to sleep early, lest the big guy in red catch me awake.

I want to relish in those same feelings that I see in Miss E, for the first time as she really grasps the idea of what Santa is all about.

I want to languish in the feelings of pure pride I have in watching her at her Preschool's Christmas Program, and that I am happy that in addition to the gift giving and receiving side of Christmas, she knows we are also celebrating the birth of Christ.

I want to hold on to the hope that Miss E and Jay represent for a future generation. That they will learn from us the value of their lives, and those of others and that they will never ever be so careless with them as others seem to be in this age.

I have spent a lot of time recently thinking about what I can do to help those less fortunate, and I have taken a few (albeit small) steps to actually do something. I will not stop thinking of these people, but I recognize that my own family are important, too, and I want this to be a truly magical time of year for all of us. I'm letting go of the guilt I have felt that depsite what I may sometimes dwell on as shortcomings in my life - I have it a LOT better than other people - I can't carry that anymore - yes I have it better than many - but it doesn't stop me wanting to strive for something better - I'm not going to feel ashamed of that any more.

So as my daughter and I immerse ourselves in gingerbread men baking today, and package up a couple of boxes of homemade treats for friends, I will pray that we can all enjoy a happy, peaceful, and Blessed Christmas.

Holiday Challenge!

Thanksgiving traveling, and two sick kids have meant very little computer time and no blogging for me lately.

Miss E is back at school, Baby J is fast asleep, and I have the luxury of peace and quiet at the computer for a couple of hours. One luxury amid many for which I am extremely grateful.

We live in a modest house. We don't have an extravagant lifestyle. I stay at home, and we go without certain things so that we can live on one income. For now, we are happy and healthy, and life is good. Yes there are things that I am anxious about, but these are not life threatening issues. We could save more and need to do better in this regard, but we are doing alright.

I don't have to worry about where we will sleep tonight. Nor do I have to panic that I can't buy food to feed my children. If I were to find myself pregnant with another child, it wouldn't send me into fear or despair about how we could afford it. I don't have to worry that my husband would raise his hand to me, or our children. I don't have to deal with mental or physical abuse of any kind that would send me running towards anyone who could help me.

Ever since I wrote this post, I have been ruminating over what it is I can do to help those people who face all of these fears and challenges, and more. Reading some of Jen's posts at One Plus Two has had me in tears many times. I have cried with sadness at the circumstances that leave people seeking shelter where she works, and I have cried in shame at my own awkwardness when presented with the issue of homelessness in the form of panhandlers. For some reason I can't link to individual posts at Jen's site - so you'll have to dig through her archives to see what I mean - I promise it's worth it!

We find ourselves once again in full blown holiday madness. I am getting to the point where I don't even want tv on in the house because all channels during the day are full of toy commercials that have Miss E dancing around the house shouting 'Can I get that? Can I? Can I?. I try to explain as best I can to her young self about how we will look forward to receiving some gifts at Christmas, but it certainly won't be everything she sees - she looks at me like I'm the worst mother ever to deny her the latest set of plastic rubbish she's seen and I feel so sad. I will not let her grow up obsessed with the latest material 'in thing'. I want her to enjoy the magic of childhood of course, but I also want her to grow up socially responsible and considerate of others less fortunate than she is. I will work on finding a way to teach her these things, in a way she can understand. We have started to talk about things she has outgrown, toys and clothes, and how other little girls younger than her would love to have these things because they don't have any toys. She is warming up to the idea of letting some things go, but I can tell this will be an ongoing lesson since I'm not sure she's 100% there, yet.

I'm not in a position to make grand financial gestures, but I can make small contributions - financial and in terms of donated goods. I'm not going to go into the specifics of what I'm doing as that is not the point of the post - it's not about me or how great I am for helping. I will quietly do what I can, when I can and I want to invite each of you to do the same.

The last few weeks I have spent a lot of time thinking about this. I have found myself feeling ashamed of my envy of material things, or financial freedom that other people have. We don't know what goes on in other people's lives so I need not concern myself with any of these superficial things. My conscience has been well and truly pricked. While I may find myself anxious towards the end of the month wondering how the heck we managed to go right through a paycheck without saving any of it - I am very grateful that there is a paycheck, and another one coming. Many people aren't so lucky. Yes, some people find themselves destitute through their own actions and addictions. Others have lost everything through a series of unhappy circumstances, beyond their control. My compassion for either group is the same. They are all people - individuals, couples, families. They are all some mother's child. They have hearts and souls just like you and me, and they-need-help!

I don't want this post to get preachy - but I do want each of you reading this to really think hard about how you can help. Even the smallest gesture may help just one person for just one day - think about it.

Think about it while you're at the Mall stocking up on Christmas, or other Holiday gifts. Think about it when you're talking to your children. Think about it when you're planning your holiday menus, baking your holiday cookies.

Actually - don't just think about it, reach out, and DO something. Do something now in this holiday season, and make it your New Year's Resolution to keep on doing something - I know I will.

Destitute

He stands on the grassy verge, just outside the perimeter of the grocery store parking lot. Tall and skeletal in stature, his dirty clothes literally hanging on his bony frame.

His hair is long and matted, his beard equally so. What is visible of his face is weathered, leathered and brown.

He stands here in all weathers, in the light and in the dark. Sometimes he holds a card which I've never been able to read, but I already know that it says 'Homeless, please help, God Bless'.

When I see him, my stomach tightens, gripped with a mixture of confusing feelings. How did he get to be this way? And, what is my responsibility towards him?

I have never reached out to this man and for that I feel guilty, but my fear outweighs the feelings of guilt most days.

He is one of many panhandlers I see, in various situations, regularly at busy intersections. Some I want to cry for. Others I want to scream at to go look for a job because they look plenty healthy and fit to me. Others still I want to call the cops on because before my very eyes they straighten up from their half naked, bent over position, set down their sign which says 'please help, disabled Vet.',pull on a shirt, walk when they'd previously hobbled, to their bicycle and cycle off when their 'begging shift' is over.

I struggle with the question 'what am I supposed to do for these people?' Are we not taught that we should help those less fortunate than ourselves? But, this is America - and while drug and alcohol abuse is not unknown in Ireland - it's not as prevalent, nor as obvious as it sometimes is here. And so, afraid that these people could be hopped up on any combination of substances, or that any assistance I offer will be used to procure more of said substances, I keep my windows closed, my gaze straight ahead and I do nothing. I contribute to the collection each week at Mass, and that is the only way I have salved my conscience thus far, on the understanding that that donation will be used in some way to help those less fortunate.

The grocery store beggar makes me think much more than any other I've seen. Perhaps because it's not that far from our cosy home in our nice neighbourhood with the great golf club across the road. Maybe it's because I pass him in a big comfortable car with my well fed children safely cocooned in the back. I find myself wondering if he has, or had a family. Is he a victim of a series of unhappy circumstances that have led him to this? If he's brought this on himself? Is he an alcoholic, or a drug addict? If he had a job, a home, people who cared. He looks so lonely, beaten, pathetic and absolutely destitute.

I have been thinking of him almost constantly since yesterday afternoon when I saw him again. This time he was standing a little way away from his grocery store post, on another grassy verge. Surrounded by two Sherrif's cruisers, he was handcuffed, and a lady Deputy was donning latex gloves, presumably to search him. I don't know what he did. If he had an altercation with passersby? Was this part of their attempt to 'move him along'. Was he high on something?

All I know is that my stomach is again tight with those confusing and uncomfortable feelings. I am afraid to reach out to panhandlers. I don't know what kind of reaction I'll get, I don't want to feed an already destructive habit by helping fund it but I know I must do SOMETHING. And, I will - I just need to figure out how.

Five reasons to curse myself for forgetting my camera

1. We took our walk around the lake again today (well, I walked, kids rolled!). It rained this morning and the gorgeous big lily pads at the water's edge were covered in rain droplets that would have made for fabulous photos. They looked like semi-spherical crystals floating atop their vibrant green platforms.

2. I don't have a picture to show you of Miss E and her traveling companion Miss Minnie Mouse, all strapped in, enjoying their stroll.

3. A mama duck, and her two babies walked right up to us as I stopped to give the kids their water bottles. Two gorgeous little ducklings and I couldn't take a snap of them (I'm really bummed about that, but fear that mama duck might have taken a snap at me perhaps if I'd gone shoving my camera at them, but still).

4. I missed capturing the looks on the faces of passersby as I sashayed my way along, pushing the stroller and humming to the beat of Michael Buble's 'Save the last dance for me' (I defy anyone to listen to that and not want to go all Dancing with the Stars right there on the spot!).

5. Video might have been more appropriate for this, but I missed getting Baby J's reactions to the sounds he can so clearly hear, the birds and the cars, and turning to the source of each noise as it happened.

And why did I forget my camera? Because I took it out of my ready prepared diaper bag to take a shot of this:



Miss E thinking she's ready for the off and saying 'Let's rock and roll, Mommy!'. I did of course change her out of her nightdress and put some clothes and shoes on her, but the rest of the outfit and accessories stayed the same!

There are some days when I question my sanity in deciding to stay at home, then there are others, like today when I know there's no place I'd rather be.

Florida Fall

It is here, at last! Some cooler weather. It's still hot, but the breeze we've had in the last few days has brought nothing short of ecstasy to those of us craving some outside time down here.

Summer in Florida is not a pleasant time for me - I can't stand to be outside for longer than it takes for me to get from the front door to the mailbox and back. The heat, the humidity, the sweating in the hot searing sun. All of it is disgusting.

But now? Ahhhhhhh!

This morning I took the kids on a walk around a local lake.



This is part of my jumping back on the Makeover Monday bandwagon. A commitment to walk around this lake at least 3 times a week. This is a beautiful time of year to do it and goodness knows after reading this, and this I know I am a big time slacker in the fitness department.

As a secondary goal, I think I should study up on some ornithology so that when Miss E asks me 'What's that bird Mommy?',



Or, 'What are those birds Mommy?',


I won't have to answer 'duck' and hope for the best!

Pushing these two*,

three miles around this lake three times a week in their trusty chariot will do wonders for our health and our appreciation of wildlife (unless a stinkin' 'gator comes outta that there water!**) With some great music and perhaps an audiobook loaded up on my ipod I'll be racking it up to five times a week in no time!



*I promise you I do fix my daughter's hair, but as much as I like to brush and style it, her standard procedure immediately thereafter is to wreck it. I didn't bother to battle with her before this photo, and I got a smile. Smiles, and pretty hair are generally mutually exclusive concepts in our experience.

** Let's hope this doesn't happen before I have built up the strength and stamina to actually run with that stroller at the sight of any emerging reptiles!

Nobody warned me about the guilt.

Much has been written lately by me, and on other blogs about the advice, questions, comments etc that people randomly spew at you when you're pregnant, and when you have young babies/kids.

What nobody warns you about however, is the guilt.

When I raise my voice a little higher than is necessary because Miss E pees on the carpet for the nth time - GUILT.

When I clip her legs for yet another potentially harmful swat, kick, throw or blow at her baby brother, because reasoning, pleading, and calmly and consistently exercising the time out option, never work - GUILT.

When I start drinking Aloe Vera juice to help with my persistent recurring patches of eczema on my arms, fingers and eyelids without first checking if it's okay while breastfeeding. When my baby squirms in discomfort, seems unsettled and cranky, off his food and I then check about the Aloe Vera and discover that it is contraindicated when breastfeeding because it causes cramping and diarrhea in breastfed babies - MAJOR GUILT!

When I am exploring preschool for Miss E because I think she'll benefit from a couple of hours, a couple of days a week away from us, playing in a different setting, interacting with peers etc, but then honestly admit that I think I'll benefit from it more - GUILT.

When I see my baby boy accomplish a new task, and realise that he's been doing it for a while and I have no idea when he started and remembering that with his sister I practically documented every new wave of her hand - GUILT.

That Miss E has terrible sleeping habits, reinforced by the fact that by the time 'bed-time' comes I am so tired that I take the path of least resistance and don't enforce a bedtime routine because I can't face the crying or the tantrums and so I lie with her, or let her run around til she's tired enough to fall asleep and carry her into bed. That I further reinforce bad sleeping habits by letting her into our bed when she comes during the night and then proceeds to kick and toss because she's too warm, or she's too uncomfortable and we all end up with a crap night's sleep. That I give in to 3am demands for a cup of milk because who the heck wants a screaming match in the middle of the night? - and I dread to think the effect this will have on her teeth - GUILT.

When I listen to others tell me about potty training 'she's so smart, she'll get it in no time', 'it'll just click with her', 'she really should be trained by now','it's just like training a dog, you need to take her to the potty every 30 minutes', 'insert your own annoying potty training tips here, ad infinitum', when instead, I should have listened to my daughter and realised that for whatever reason it's not clicking with her, and she's not ready. That instead of having unreasonable expectations of her, it won't be the end of the world if she's not potty trained by her third birthday, nor does it matter that she's still in diapers and all of her little friends are not - GUILT.

That Miss E has just said 'Shit' after dropping her crackers and cheese on the floor - because she hears me say that all too frequently - GUILT.

These examples only scratch the surface of what brings 'mommy guilt' on a daily basis. Knowing about it beforehand would probably do little to lessen it's effect on me, but at least I could have expected it. Maybe this guilt is a good thing - although feeling guilty about these things makes me feel like a crap mom, perhaps not feeling guilty about them would make me an even worse mom? At least if I feel guilty, and uncomfortable - I'm more likely to change and do better.

Next stop Carnegie Hall!

I know I should be saving this for Monday for the Makeover Monday update, but I can’t wait to reveal that I have nailed my piano piece! Actually I pretty much had it down on Monday evening, a shock to me I can tell you.

Okay, so it wasn’t exactly the most demanding classical masterpiece – rather a simple, 16 bar Minuet in G by Johann Sebastian Bach – think ‘Baby Einstein’ music and you’ve pretty much got it. Still, I read the music and have been practicing so that I can play it without stumbling or hesitating.

To give you an idea of how much of a challenge this is for me. I can play the piano pretty well. I can listen to a melody and sit down and replicate it, adding my own harmonizing chords with the left hand. While this to any (non musical) passerby may sound good, I am never satisfied with it. I want to be able to play properly, but I’m lazy and impatient, and I just hate reading the music.

The Treble Clef music (played by the right hand, the one that looks like a squiggly ‘g’), is always easy for me to read and very easy to play right off. It’s reading the Bass Clef music (the one that looks like a backwards ‘c’ and is played by the left hand) that stumps me, and as for coordinating this with the right hand? Well, lets just say it’s always been quicker for me to ‘sound it out’ myself and come up with something which is ‘close enough’, but never good enough, hence my quest to Maestro-dom!

Determined to do this right – I sat down and played the right hand piece first – very easy. I then cheated, got my pen out and wrote the letter of each left hand note beside the music. This meant I didn’t have to mentally go through the F.A.C.E, and E.G.B.D.F (Every Good Boy Deserves Football) acronyms in order to identify the notes! It worked and stopped me from getting frustrated and abandoning it.

My husband returned last night, and proud of my accomplishment, I played the piece for him. His reaction was underwhelming to say the least – not being a classical music aficionado he didn’t recognize the ‘tune’ and therefore did not feel qualified to say if it was good or not! You would think this could have worked in my favour in that he would not have noticed the bum notes that may or may not have crept in as I was playing, but no. I explained to him that, for me, reading this music and playing it, is like reading two sentences of a book and speaking them, all at the same time – he still didn’t get it, and just gave me that sympathetic ‘whatever makes you happy, dear’ look.

Oh well, I’m pretty chuffed with it, and inspired to try something more challenging next time. My ultimate goal is to be able to sight read any piece of music and play - like a proper musician. This however will definitely be a long term goal!

Operation Escape Accomplished!

Two blissful hours of adult conversation, nobody tugging at my trouser leg looking for something, no battles over unacceptable toddler behaviour, no crying, no whining and no demands from anyone!

My long overdue break with other moms was last night. It was in apparent jeopardy at least twice though. The first time being when my Husband called Tuesday to say he had to go away to Naples Wednesday, and stay overnight for work - but smart guy that he is, he delivered this news, and a babysitting solution all in the same sentence! The second time was when we were getting perilously close to the time when I was supposed to meet my friends and the babysitters still hadn't arrived!? I could literally feel the tears of disappointment smarting my eyes at the thought that I wasn't going to make it out.

I don't mean to paint my toddler as a tearaway - she's not (at least not all the time). Lately however, I have felt overwhelmed more than a few times at my complete lack of effectiveness in parenting her positively (therein lies a juicy blog post methinks!), and so I needed OUT for a little while, to stop me feeling even more overwhelmed.

I have never left my kid(s) with a babysitter before - like a real, paid for, babysitter. The only times in 2.5 years that we have gone out as a couple without the children is when we have family visiting from Ireland. One of my friends asked 'how was it?' 'leaving the kids with a babysitter for the first time, how did you feel about doing it?' I felt confused, it hadn't even crossed my mind, not even for a fleeting second, to feel bad about it. So then (briefly) I felt bad for not feeling bad. I was so single-mindedly focused on escaping! So suddenly I considered would Miss E miss me? Would she be difficult? Would the baby fuss? Then just as suddenly I put it out of my mind confident that Beth, (the babysitter) could handle it!

So since I'm making myself out as a mom who could care less if her kids cry when she's out - I imagine you'll all cast me out for sitting eating my meal and secretly smiling to myself that since my husband was out of town I'd get to sleep all night in our bed by myself - with the comforter to myself, stretching out right across the bed if I wanted to. I didn't factor into this the likelihood that Miss E would trot into the room during the night and get in beside me as she does most nights, but I can deal with her, she doesn't snore - I was still looking forward to a better night's sleep in general. Hmm - I couldn't get to sleep for AGES, I missed him, I guess I must love him or something!

All of us enjoyed our meal together, very grateful that we didn't have to cut pieces up and hand them to little people who always seem more interested in what's on our plate, than their own. We did end up talking a LOT about our kids - we each have children the same age and so we found ourselves comparing our challenges and successes. I'm confident though, with a few more outings we can branch out into other topics, and set the world to rights.

I'm off to check my calendar now so I can schedule another get together in the near future - check your in boxes ladies, and get the hubbies on board - we're doing this again, SOON.

Makeover Monday

I'm a bit slow at posting about Makeover Monday today (my link to moodswingingmommy's post isn't going to work because she's tarting up her blog this afternoon!), I am still trying to catch up with my very disorganized self.

My plan to improve on time spent playing with my daughter went well last week - albeit that I think it's created expectations in her that I will now paint, do play dough, crafts, music etc on demand, like all day, everyday! (not happening sweetheart!).

We kicked this off on Tuesday with a play dough session, starting with us making the play dough (Martha's got nothing on me!).
Wednesday instead of coming home straight after the library story time, we headed to a nearby splash park for fun and lunch with friends. Much fun ensued, and a nice long nap later was a great bonus for all of us.

Thursday's activities were music related and I sat with her at the piano keyboard for AGES!, going over the ABC song (at her request) over and over again - then suffering in silence as she clanged the keys - she had a blast! No photos, they wouldn't do it justice - you really would need audio, but since my technical skills aren't up to that yet, consider yourself spared!

Friday we had some crafts in the morning:


We even got this in before heading out to our playgroup at 10am at the play center (does that earn me extra mommy points?). Since I've said enough about our fun play date already, and since I think I might cry if I make myself recall the rest of Friday, now feels like a good point to stop discussing it!

We did have fun doing these activities, and I will continue to do similar, and some less structured fun stuff with Miss E. Over this past weekend I also had something of an epiphany that I need to look out for myself more, and that this in turn will make me a better mommy, too. Saturday and Sunday were spent just surviving, and so teetering on the brink of a mommy meltdown one of these days - my next week's focus is on ME!

I've already had my hair done today - and you all know how much better we feel after a haircut. And, as I've told everyone within earshot today, I'm going out for a girly night during the week (okay, maybe just a couple of hours since my 6 month old will require my lactating services before long - but it's a start right?!). My other goal is to teach myself a piano piece by reading the music! I bought a book of classical pieces for adult beginners. I don't know how realistic this is within a week, but I will give it my best shot - how satisfying it would be for me to sit down and play a piece as its composer intended it to be played!

Makeover Monday

Moodswingingmommy at Am I going mad or am I just a Mommy brought the concept of Makeover Monday to my attention this morning on her blog and I thought - 'this is for me'! One of my reasons for starting this blog, as I said in my profile, is to improve in a number of areas - my thinking being that if I commit to blogging about it, then I'll actually DO it!

There are several things I want to get better at in a variety of areas - as a mother, wife and selfishly, things I just want to get better at just for ME. Makeover Monday will give me some structure to chart my progress (structure is good, it is lack thereof in any part of my life that has me needing to make so many improvements lol!).

Rather than bore myself listing them all now - I'll just start with what I intend to focus on this week.

I want to take more time engaging with my two year old on the floor, in the backyard, playing with her and watching her learn. I will set up specific activities for her be it crafts, manipulative play, music or whatever, and I will actually PLAY with her for the duration of the activity.

I enjoy reading to her, and she is at a wonderful stage now where she actually listens and engages in the story with me, so it's not that I don't have any one on one time with her - I do, but I'm conscious that lately that I let my sense of boredom (yes sometimes getting down on the floor with her bores the knickers off me!) overrule the situation and I leave her to amuse herself more than I should - I need to do better.

Next week I'll post progress and provide photographic evidence! Today is a bust as far as getting into any specific activity - since we're going into full blown bedtime preps shortly. I did have her at toddler gym this morning though after a 4 week absence so that counts for something, right?