Also Find Me At

I SUPPORT

A Sign Of Things To Come

If you're new here, you may want to subscribe to my RSS feed. Thanks for visiting!

Most people think that boys are more difficult when they’re small, and girls are harder when they’re teenagers. I sometimes wonder if my boys didn’t get that memo, and are already practicing for their teen angst professional eye roll competitions.

Last week my 3yo son told me that when he’s older he will “have a beard and not listen to me anymore“, while looking at me with a scowl and pointing his tiny finger in my face. He’s also a comic, because if what he does now is called “listening”, then I’m in for a long road of pulling my hair out and shopping at WineLibrary.

Then yesterday my 5yo son was getting exasperated with me and my insistence that he wear clothes and eat food (I’m so mean), so I explained to him what his options were for doing what I asked. When I was done, he literally rolled his eyes, did a face palm, and said, “that doesn’t even make sense! are you nuts?!“.

I know my boys are really smart, so I try to remind myself that I’m actually happy they are too clever to just do what they’re asked without question. I know that one day these things will be an asset to them. I just wish they’d wait to stick it to The Man, and leave The Mom alone.

May 12, 2008 | Filed Under Family | 13 Comments

Hey Mama: A Tribute to Motherhood

As I sit here contemplating Mother’s Day and what to say about my own mother and her fabulosity, I can’t help but examine what motherhood means to me. My three boys continue to challenge and inspire me daily, and coming home yesterday to a gigantic homemade Mother’s Day banner from them (as well as a place mat, let’s not forget the hand made fringe!) is all the thanks I need (well, for now…but when they’re older I expect thank yous commensurate with the 50 hours combined labor and med-free births I had, kthxbai.).

The idea of “motherhood” makes me think about the amazing real life mama’s I know who impact my life, my soul and my journey daily. I also think about the many, many online mama’s I’ve met and been fortunate enough to get to know and I am so proud of the state of motherhood. For all the strife out there, the pain in this world, I’m still filled with joy when I think about how incredible my mother-hood really is.

We moms are smarter, more savvy and more ambitious than ever before. I’m able to stay home with my kids while I work and network and connect every day…a juggling act that I think we moms deserve some kind of webby award for maintaining. We are able to Twitter, blog, email and text from the playroom and the playground, without most people knowing that we’re not sitting at a desk in a big city high rise (unless, of course, we twitter about the toys and the sand and the snot).

We are being sought out for our influence and our opinions, and finally the world is starting to see that moms TALK. We talk to each other, to women we know and don’t know, and we share our knowledge. The world is figuring out that we aren’t all June Cleaver, that we do actually have opinions, and that now and then we aren’t exactly mother of the year. The world is figuring out that sometimes we get depressed, sometimes we get frustrated, sometimes we’ve had enough. The world is on notice: moms are online, and we’ve gone viral.

My own mother was never your typical mom. She told us we could do our own laundry and make our own school lunches, and that we were perfectly fine wearing thrift store designer clothes. At the time I hated being forced to do things that seemed to be what no one else was doing. Why did my mom insist on making me stand out? On making me so different?

Of course by the time I hit college I started realizing that being different was an asset. It made me stand out and get noticed by the people who mattered. Being fiercely independent has served me well, and has morphed into a wild hair that never fails to get me to push myself to find my full potential. My mom taught me that women are smart, busy, and could juggle family and other interests if they want to. She has always been an entrepreneur, and that same fiery-risk-taking-spirit makes me who I am today. A lover of information, of people, of finding my own way and owning it. She taught me to see the positive in any situation and focus on that silver lining and on my faith in God to get me through the hard times. She taught me that I don’t have to be perfect, and that even flawed, I’m still awesome. She taught me to believe in ME.

To all the mamas out there, thank you. To my mama, THANK YOU. Happy Mother’s Day.

May 11, 2008 | Filed Under Family, Myself and I, Relationships | 13 Comments

Discombobulated: My Brain on Life

I have felt all week as though my head might not be completely attached to my body. Something is amiss, but I can’t really explain it or even write about it. Have you ever had some incredibly intense feelings going on inside your heart and head, and been unable to place a finger on what they are or what they mean?

This much I know: I am discombobulated.

dis·com·bob·u·late [dis-kuhm bob-yuh-leyt] to confuse or disconcert; upset; frustrate; to throw into a state of confusion

Yep, that’s pretty much it.

I have some life circumstances that may “explain” my mental state, but most of them are not new, so I don’t have that shock of “oh noes!” that happens to your system when something bad happens. And even those things, things that I may have not planned for my life, are things that I’ve accepted and haven’t had any recent freak-outs about.

So what is it?

I’m an intuitive person, and I live and die by my spidey sense. I can’t tell if I’m out of sorts because something bad is ahead, or just some big change in on the way, or what. I feel like my whole body is literally hurting, and I don’t know how to fix it.

Dread. I hate that feeling.

I know that no matter what happens, we will be fine, God is in control. I honestly do not doubt that. But that’s my logical brain, and my non-logical brain (i.e. 95% of it) is not peaceful at all right now.

What do you do when you have a dark cloud looming, and don’t know why? Or even if you do know why, how do you cope? Do you ignore it in hopes it goes away, do you go get a massage, or do you blog about it and be done with it?

May 9, 2008 | Filed Under Myself and I | 14 Comments

On Commenting

Being mostly right-brained has its perks at times, while other times it makes me feel like all I’m qualified to do is put a pretty (metaphorical) ribbon on something and call it art. I do consider writing a form of art, so I guess that would make me an artist, and we all know artists do not typically excel in the self confidence area. Sure, I’m happy with who I am, the woman on the inside. My soul, the person I strive to be each day, is someone I’ve put a lot of work into. But when I spill it all out on the screen, I don’t always feel like I am understood or even interesting. Are the things that interest me–things other people want to read about? My traffic says yes, but my comments…well, not so much.

I love to write, and while I do write for my own reasons and own self, I feel like my blog is a conversation with my (you) readers. There are many of you reading (holy cow, I’m shocked at how many of you visit this humble little place) but I know most of you don’t stop and say howdy. I know the reasons why…too busy, don’t feel witty, forget, not your thang…whatever it may be. I get it, believe me, I do. Because I’m not the best commenter either. Sometimes I’m lucky to get to your blog to read it at all, but I’m working on it. Promise.

So here’s the crux of it: comments matter. Like my friend Beth at I Should Be Folding Laundry said, comments are my payday. This blog is not written for money, and while I do enjoy the opportunities this blog brings my way–at the end of the day it’s still just me and my thoughts and I don’t like talking to my dog. Because that’s what it feels like when a bunch of you read and only a handful leave your thoughts…like speaking out into a foggy night when everyone’s already in their houses and I’m standing alone on the street. When I talk to my dog, she stares at me then walks off completely unaffected.

It’s ok…I realize that it’s entirely possible that most of you click away completely unaffected. But if that’s the case, go ahead and leave “woof” as your comment. That way, I’ll know that you stopped by, that you might slightly care, and that you might also possibly be covered in fur and smell like poo. And any of those is fine by me. (Sorta).

May 5, 2008 | Filed Under Bloggy Friends, Myself and I | 32 Comments

Sisterhood

I’m blessed to have an actual sister who is amazing and smart (and relentlessly young and thin), but I never imagined having friends so amazing that you *wish* they were your sisters, too. I’ve talked about my tribe before, and this weekend I added to that tribe. I love this pic because it showcases us all pretty well…

**Me, Steph from Adventures in Babywearing, Crooked Eyebrow, Milk & Honey

And since Beth somehow escaped that fabulous shot, she gets her own:

**Beth from I Should Be Folding Laundry thinking she’s cool with her multiple smart units

This vegan actually ate half a cheeseburger and didn’t hate it (although I may or may not have regretted it later, but the pina coladas made me forget). Don’t I look a little *too* happy about the burgers?

My gut hurt from the crying and the laughing, and I think that’s the best kind of hurt. It’s real, and it creates memories that last forever.

**Photos taken by Crooked Eyebrow and Beth

May 5, 2008 | Filed Under Bloggy Friends | 9 Comments

The Freak Flag, Tis Flying

Most of the time I think I’m normal, and other people are the weirdos. However when I list the things we do that are not mainstream, I realize that no, I’m pretty much the freak. Everything from co-sleeping, to parenting choices, to my own passions, to my politics, to the way we eat–all of it is what I would consider counter culture. On the one hand, I’m happy to not be a jump-off-the-bridge-because-you-said-so kinda of a girl. On the other hand, it does get a little exhausting constantly fielding questions about “why” we do what we do. I should just give them my card and they can come here and read all about it.

For the most part, my decisions about who I am and what kind of a mom I want to be, were not necessarily planned out ahead of time. They evolved organically, out of circumstance, and seemed to me to be the natural choice in any situation. I don’t regret any of it, and I love that my life is interesting to others (because it seems pretty normal and boring, at times, to me!). Clearly I don’t mind talking about myself, right?

The biggest thing for me is that I hope everyone realizes that just because I might be different from you, or rather, if you are different from me, I do not judge people for their life choices. I might have an opinion, but it’s just my opinion, and what we are doing as a family is what is best FOR US. I have friends of all faiths, personalities, styles, life choices, etc. What we have in common is that we like each others’ heart, and that is ultimately what matters. We don’t all have to pick the same things out when we go to the grocery store or at the clothing store (or at the hair salon!) to be friends, and I’m ok if you think what I do is “weird”. I’m strong enough in my own self to not worry about that, and I hope that you are as well.

I posted about one of my passions at Chicago Moms Blog this week, and about our diet choices at Stop Looking At Me. I hope you’ll come visit!

May 2, 2008 | Filed Under Chicago Moms Blog, Myself and I, NWI Parent | 7 Comments

If I Had Known

I’ve been thinking all week about submitting a photo for the 5 Minutes for Mom photo contest, but I couldn’t decide what to highlight. Do I pick a photo of the kids? Of my own mom? Ultimately I decided on this photo:

This is me, two weeks before I gave birth to my first child 6 years ago. I was so excited to be a mom, because I had always felt it was my number one “career” choice. I never had ambitions to do anything else, so this was it–I was finally getting my dream job. I had no idea the amazing journey that lay ahead, and no idea that I’d be continually thrown for a loop in my motherhood evolution.

At that time, I remember thinking that we’d just be a typical family, going about life as everyone does. I had not one inkling that my first baby, and then my second, would have autism. I knew sleepless nights were ahead, but did not realize that meant that 6 years later those nights would still be just as restless. Had I known we as parents would end up becoming not only parents of autism, but writers, activists, go-against-the-grain-on-everything-type-parents, I might have been a little more reflective and a little more afraid.

Had I known what I know now, I might have been tempted to want to change things. Not that I could have changed anything, but I would have thought that I couldn’t handle what God had in mind for my life. I would not have realized the profound impact these boys would make on my heart…imprints of love, insight, genius.

Sometimes, many times, it’s better to be in the dark and not see where the path ahead of us is leading. While the darkness makes us feel out-of-control and intimidated, it also lets us take our own fear of failure out of the equation. It let’s us get out of our own way, and bloom into a better person than we knew we had inside us.

May 1, 2008 | Filed Under Autism, Family, Myself and I | 18 Comments

« Previous Page