The Great Debate

Earlier this month I made my yearly visit to my OBGYN.  Fun stuff let me tell you.  The visit resulted in an appointment for a pelvic ultra sound.  More fun stuff, to rule out even more fun stuff.  Sparing the gory details, let me outline the actual fun stuff.  The preggo ladies.  Big Bellies about to pop, little bellies excited as could be, and me with my very happy and very empty belly.  It did however make me nostalgic for the days when ultra sounds were surrounded with glee and delight, as a chance to see your little one up close an person even if they looked like a pea, an acorn, or a peanut.

Let's just say, I was not nostalgic for pregnancy.  I did not feel the need to be pregnant again.  Even when the receptionist asked how far along I was, I did not feel my heart drop as I said I wasn't pregnant.  That my friends is a sure sign that this uterus is in line for serious retirement.  If being surrounded by happy and healthy pregnant moms doesn't make you sad your are not currently gestating, then nothing will.

That brings me to my follow up appointment with the man I love almost more than my Husband... My OBGYN.  I'm dead serious when I say this man, this DOCTOR, does whatever I ask.  Please make me stop puking, done.  Please don't make me go back to work, done.  Please give me all the drugs humanly possible, done.  Promise me if the baby doesn't come out in 12 hours or less, cut it out, done.  Ok I didn't have to have a C-section, but I'm pretty sure if I had asked he would have said, my pleasure.  I seriously love this doctor.  So when I get to see him when I'm not pregnant it's like a family reunion.

We talked about my ultrasound and my clean bill of health for my abdomen.  No fibroid, masses, scar tissue.  YEAH ME!  We talked about my health over the last year, some of the complications I was experiencing, and then we talked shop. 

Tubal Ligation.  Or as I refer to it, reproductive retirement.  Is this a good idea for me?  What are the complications?  What's the recovery time?  Then he asked the question that my husband has been asking for months... So you don't want any more children? 

What?  Ugh!  What kind of horrible person says no to a baby?  Yeah it's a common question.  People even ask before you leave the hospital.  So mom when are you gonna start on another one?  Then as my girls get older people start asking my personal favorite:  When are you going to try for THAT boy?

UGH!  I hate that question.  Really?  You think my family is incomplete because my children lack a penis and can't pee standing up?  I'm sure I sound like the feminist I once was (still am?), but seriously? 

I'll admit that I twice dreamed in blue.  During the early months of both pregnancies.  I dreamed about my son, the quarterback, bringing home the BCS Championship, the first in Bulldog history, while me and John sat in the stands.  The cameras would broadcast our tears as we watched our BOY bring home the glory.  They would tell the back story of our journey to the game, which included the part about how Mr. QB's dad, lives and breathes Fresno State.  I dreamed about football pads, baseball bats, and skateboards.  Dump trucks and dirt bikes.  Yes, I dreamed in blue.  Both times. 

What I got, both times were blessings swaddled in pink.  Tutus and sequins, sugar and spice, Barbie dolls and paper dolls.  I have never regretted one minute.  Never felt a void.  Who better to share a love of Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, and Hello Kitty?  I'm looking forward to dance recitals, softball championships (yes, the Lady Bulldogs), and Sorority Rush (hello legacies).  So now I dream in color.  Nothing is missing. 

So, I'm done.  I'm a mom.  Of two happy and healthy girls that make my world go round.  I don't need a penis on one of them to validate me as a mother.  Does it make me selfish and cold?  Maybe.  Who doesn't want more cuddly babies?  Cute booties and tiny onesies.  Babies are the perfect example of love and life.  So who can say no to a baby?

ME!  Because I can say no to PREGNANCY.  I don't want to have another baby, because I DON'T WANT TO BE PREGNANT EVER AGAIN.  For me pregnancy is not cute.  It's me in sweats, gagging, popping zofran and colace, sipping coca-cola, crying and depressed, while everyone around me takes care of my children while they constantly cry for their mommy.  And it's not just for a couple of weeks.  It's for the first four months.  With Mac it was the first five.  Why in the world would I want to be miserable and sick and awful to be around again?  If someone could promise me that this would not happen then sure I'd try it again.  But there are no promises with pregnancy.  So trying again doesn't guarantee you a boy.  It only guarantees you a baby.  It will surely guarantee me sickness.

Here my friends is the great debate, which has lead me to the greatest guilt trip to date.  How do I outright refuse to give my husband his greatest desire?  An male heir?  Did I seriously just type that?  Is this royal England?  Seriously though, how do I deny his dreams in blue?  Is that even fair?  And how do we come out on the other side of this?  Because as we stand, I'm not changing my mind, and he is not changing his. 

So I'm bring this to you my friends and readers.  Do I roll the dice, play Russian roulette, and hope that I not only survive a pregnancy, but that the end result has a penis?  And what do we do if we have another girl?  Do we keep trying?  If I say no, outright refuse, then is this a situation of my body my choice?  Am I just being ridiculous and selfish?   Or am I being realistic?

Once I dreamed in blue...

Happy Blogging,

Megan

GD, It's G-Free! Nutella+RiceCrispies=Magic

I realized that I'm late to the Nutella is magical party.  I guess I was just lazy about checking and double checking to see if Nutella is gluten free.  Well after a quick Google search, I find that it is.  Well hot damn!  So on my next trip to spend unheard of amounts of American dollars on such staples as milk, cheese, and of course Quaker Granola bars, I added Nutella to the shopping cart. 

So now what?  Well I also just happened to have a box of GF Crispy brown rice by Erewhon.  A GF version of the old snap, crackle, and pop standby.  I get Erewhon at Whole Foods.  They work great.  So great in fact that my brother-in-law nicknamed my regular GF Rice Crispies, Crack.  True story. 

Now, I'm aware that there are new GF Rice Krispies on the market.  I even saw them at WinCo.  Let me, let you in on the joke that is being played on all us GF-ers.  They aren't the same recipe.  They are in fact the new and improved Gluten Free Rice Krispies made with Brown Rice.  In other words, Ewehorn's Crispy Brown Rice, but with a familiar name, a fancy logo and a fancier price.  I'm sure they taste great, but I'm a little disappointed.  If you are going to make your product available to the GF community, why not revamp the old stand by and not change the entire product.  I want the Snap, Crackle and Pop of my childhood!  Not their impostor half brothers.  Oops sorry, product tangent!

Whatever you decide.  MAKE THESE!!!  TODAY!  They are delish.  Whether you are GF or not.  They are a dream.  As a side note I didn't make the delish topping.  I thought it was a little much for me... But hey, indulge.

Happy Blogging (and eating GFree!),

Megan

Nutella Rice Krispies Treats

adapted for GD/GFree from www.livlifetoo.blogspot.com (visit this blog. It's got more incredible deliciousness)

Treats:

6 cups GF Rice Krispies (or 3 cups Rice Krispies and 3 cups Chocolate Puffed Rice) OR the brand of your choice
1 bag (10.5-oz) miniature marshmallows - I use Jet Puff
¼ cup (2 ounces) unsalted butter - I used salted - my baker friends can tell me why or why not

generous 1 cup Nutella - very generous
 

Topping:

1 cup Nutella

1 1/2 cups chopped chocolate

1 Tbs trans-fat free shortening - for GF-ers you can use Earth Balance

Measure the cereal into a large mixing bowl and set aside. Spray this bowl with cooking spray.  You will be so happy you did. 

Melt the marshmallows and butter together in a medium saucepan over medium heat.  Add the Nutella and stir until combined.  Pour the melted marshmallow mixture over the cereal stirring well to evenly coat the cereal.

When I read this I thought - Microwave only is how I roll.  So I made mine in the microwave.  Here is why this was not the best way to make these... After you microwave the butter and marshmallows and add the Nutella, the Nutella will cause the marshmallows to cool - FAST.  So it's not easy to stir and it's uneven.  Even worse if you think that putting the bowl back in the microwave is the solution, you will be sadly mistaken.  The microwave causes Nutella to become stickier than it already is.  I was able to salvage mine, but wanted you to know ahead of time, in case you roll microwave style like me...

Pour into the prepared pan and use a small buttered piece of waxed paper or the back of a spoon sprayed with cooking spray to press evenly into pan.

I used a glass Pyrex lined with foil and sprayed it with cooking spray.  I use the Vons/Safeway brand, with no problems.  That way when the squares are set and cooled you can just pop out the foil and cut on a cutting board.  Of course I never do this, I leave them in the pan and cut whatever shape I desire. Usually it's the quarter of the pan

In a small sauce pan melt the remaining 1 cup of Nutella, shortening and chopped chocolate over medium/medium low heat.  When the chocolate has melted and the mixture is smooth, pour over the cereal mixture.  Gently spread the chocolate topping evenly across the top of the krispies.

I didn't do this last frosting stuff.  So if you do - let me know how it goes.

Allow the chocolate to set, then cut into squares and serve

Ah-Ha Moment

So it looks like Facebook is working, since many of you saw my Ah-ha moment post.  This is all I'm going to say about it again, because seriously we (my family) are beating a dead horse.  Unfortunately the post turned into something else entirely.

Have you ever had an ah-ha moment?  Well according to Oprah, it's a moment where your eyes completely open and you have an absolute moment of clarity.  Sounds pretty great, right?  Well Oprah left out the part that not all ah-has are beautiful and refreshing. 

This ah-ha was ugly.  It was combative and loud.  It was not a great moment of self-discovery.  It was a moment you wish you hadn't discovered.

Here is the great thing about ah-ha moments, good or bad... They lead to other ah-ha moments.  Where you really have a self discovery.  Where you realize there are things about yourself that maybe you should change.  Things about yourself you thought didn't affect other people.  Things that you are just too old for, and things for which life is too short.

So I'm not going to beat a dead horse.  I'm going to bury the damn thing, with the hatchet (so cliché right?), and set it free.  I said a prayer for both.  Then I said a prayer for me. 

With a deep breath, AH-HA.

Happy Blogging,

Megan

I want to go to THERE!

This is a shameless plug.  I'm not going to lie.  You see, I like to follow blogs in the spare minutes before one child starts screaming and the other poops her diaper.  It helps me stay current to the very many pressing events of all things motherhood, craftiness, and delicious-ness.

So here is the part that is shameless... Little Miss Momma, at http://www.littlemissmomma.com/, in all her infinite craftiness is having a HUGE giveaway.  This blog post is just one of the ways I'm entering this giveaway.  Now if you know me, you know that I don't like to push and peddle goods to my family and friends.  It makes me uncomfortable, unless it's in the form of Girl Scout Cookies, because seriously who says no to Thin Mints?

Any-hoo.  Little Miss Momma is giving away a free all expense paid spot to the Creative Estates Retreat.  Oh, you don't know Creative Estates?  I didn't either.  You can find them here at:

www.creative-estates.com

So I hit all the links and found that it's the most AMAZING retreat of Crafty peeps getting their craft on and I said "I want to go to there.  No! I have to go to there".  It's in a beautiful cabin in Northern Arizona, where 150 plus crafty chicks are gonna eat, modpodge, sew, cook, create, laugh and have a party.  Again, where do I sign???  Did you see the part about the giveaway and I could get to go for free?  Oh, you did, ok...

Creative Estates was founded and created by two moms, Shealynn Benner and Jessica Sanfilippo.  The goal was to bring lots of creative minds together and let loose on new ideas, support, and friendship.  Great minds think alike and creative minds create alike. So why wouldn't you start packing today, right?  When you visit Creative Estates read the bios of the creators, then check out their personal websites, and then ask yourself, how do I become friends with these people?  It's like in US Weekly when they say the stars are just like us... Yeah, these crafting/blogging moguls are just like us.  Moms, creating, working, blogging, living.  The inspiration is phenomenal.  Also when you visit the site, check the venue.  Seriously, it's like a day spa, a gourmet kitchen, and an interior designers office, got together and had a love child.  Did I mention I want to go to there?

So here is  my list of reasons why I HAVE to do everything in my power to win this giveaway.

1.  I am an amateur crafter.  Sure I can somewhat use a sewing machine and yes I can use a glue gun.  However ModPodge and Sculpey scare the be-geeze out of me.  I am also in awe of all those crafters on Pinterest.  I want to go forth and create.  I'm pretty sure by attending this retreat, it will be like a crafting immersion program.  Like Rosetta-Stone for crafting.

2.  It's scheduled for March 8-11, 2012.  Well, my birthday is March 26th, and I think this would be a killer birthday gift.  Not just the all expense paid part, but a trip just for Mamma.  A chance for Mamma to be re-energized.  Also I'm also turning 34, and this would most def get my mind off the fact that I'm inching closer to 35... which means...I can't even say it!

3.  If I have learned anything since starting this blog, it's to take the time to be yourself again.  This would be the perfect avenue for me to be Megan again.  Not MammaMegs or MrsCrutch, but MEGAN.  The Megan that was inspired and creative and me.  It would give me the opportunity to explore what I could be in the next chapters of my life.  To continue to redefine Megan, which all started with this blog.

AND...

4.  I have this imaginary scenario in my mind.  In it I have actually won the giveaway.  Upon arrival at the beautiful cabin, Little Miss Momma herself, will take me under her wing and introduce me to all her cool and crafty friends.  She will give me tips on how to make my blog bigger and better, and how I can reach a bigger audience.  Then we will bond over all things crafting, writing, and motherhood, which will lead to us braiding each other's hair at two in the morning.   All while munching on gluten free cookies that I made and brought, which she will say taste delish and incredible. 

Well a girl can dream right?

Happy Blogging,

Megan

Football Wife

I have a love/hate relationship with Fresno State football.  I despise it because my husband is the biggest Fresno State fan, I think in Fresno county.  He lives our lives based on the Fresno State football schedule.  Thank Jesus, our kids were born in June and April, because I'm sure if one had been born on a Fresno State home game, I would have delivered in the stands while the band played the fight song.

I love it because John is the biggest Bulldog fan.  He is so incredibly loyal, that his motto is "Don't boo the home team", which I do all the time.  He LOVES college football season.  Like most men watch the NFL, John is all about the NCAA.  It's like a disease or a parasite, but really I love it.

Why?  Because he LOVES it so much.  It starts with the agonizing task of buying season tickets.  Ok, it's only agonizing to him, but he plans and makes calls.  Sends emails and gives past season ticket holders first dibs.  It's like he's a broker off all things Fresno State.  Then it's tailgating time.  More calls, emails, menu planning (at the last minute), and scoping the spot.  Oh, and there is a spot, that he goes and sits at 7-8 hours prior to game time so we have the perfect spot under a big tree.  Has the game started yet?  No, we're just getting started...

Football season is a time of year most women dread, me included.  Yet, as much as I'm frustrated that my husband disappears for an entire Saturday at a time, I love Fresno State home games too.  I love that John and I get to be John and Megan again for a few short hours.  While yelling at the defense and hi-fiving after touchdowns.  We laugh and crack jokes about the lone male cheerleader, because he is simply the best on the squad.  That we yell and cuss at Pat Hill for calling the same play three times in a row.  That we do all of these things together, while on the same page, and we aren't fighting about laundry or dishes, or Mac on the table again.

It's great to know that after six years of marriage, two kids, and a messy house we still have the foundation our relationship was built on... HUMOR.  We love to crack jokes about each other, call each other names that would make others blush, and have conversations that say a lot about our marriage.

For example, at yesterday's tailgate,

John:   "Help me clean up this tailgate". 

Me:  "I don't live here"

John:  "You don't clean at home either"

Me:  "So why would I start here?"

For the record I did help him clean a little.  I even walked with him to the bathroom, and waited while he bought Nachos.  Which gave us the chance to people watch.  He was totally disgusted with all the little college girlies in their slutty homemade t-shirts, and declared that if Choochie (Caitlin) even wore those he would beat her.  I said, how would you know she will be away at college.  Of course he said she would only be going to Fresno State, and we would still have season tickets and if he ever caught her in one of those slutty shirts he would cover her with his body.  Then we laughed because Choochie would NEVER wear a shirt like that, but of course Mac would, and then it would totally be a lost cause, because just like her Mamma, Mac does what Mac wants.

So while I hate the late Saturday nights because the kids always wake up on Sunday morning before dawn, and I hate the hours and money spent, I love the time with my hubby.  I love it because, thanks to Bulldog football last night, we had the time to have the most meaningful conversation we've had in months...

Happy Blogging,

Megan

This face...

I love this face!

I mean seriously, I ask you, how could you not love this face?

I was thinking the other day that I write SO MUCH about Caitlin, that many of you might not know much about Mackenzie.  Let me tell you this kid is HILARIOUS... Like her father, HILARIOUS.  Before I get to that stuff, let me give you OUR back story.

I almost didn't get this face.  Truth is, and I know it sounds horrible, I didn't want another baby.  Now, I didn't say I didn't want Mackenzie, I just said I didn't want another baby.  My motherhood career had a super rocky start.  So of course I had doubts and fears.  I begged John to wait until Caitlin was at least two, then after Caitlin's second birthday threw out all my BC pills, then totally freaked, ordered another package and took them for another month.  I thought it's now or never, put the fear of morning sickness, leg cramps and constipation behind me, and said, FINE. 

At the time I really said, "I'm putting it in God's hands", when my friend Krysten replied, "Is that such a great idea?", and I responded "Sure", when what I really wanted to say was "NO!", but it was too late.  Here is the funny part about all of this, which restored my idea that God has one hell of a sense of humor.  It took almost a year to conceive Caitlin.  ALMOST A YEAR.  Imagine my surprise when four, yes four weeks later, God chuckled and said, Your Eggo is Preggo... And I was super sick, and I was super annoyed by the horcrux growing in my womb, and begged it to will itself a penis, which it didn't but I love her anyway...

Here is a list of what I love about Mackenzie Grace:

She was my second chance at motherhood.  She gave me a gift no one else could, the chance to do it right, in the right mind, with the right heart.  That is the most precious gift I could ever get.

Mac was 4 pounds, 13 ounces, and looked like a doll.  She had the smallest face, and appeared so fragile.  Looks are deceiving because she fought every nurse who tried to take her temperature or measure her, or whatever else it is that they do to newborns that are sleeping soundly.



Baby Mac, almost 1 week old


She cut two teeth before four months, and it was so sad because she didn't have the hand eye coordination to maneuver a teething ring. 

Right away she liked to fight with her sister.  No joke as soon as she figured out hair pulling she was on it.

Mac is my screamer.  Like about everything.  Take away the cell phone she is trying to put in her mouth, SCREAM.  Make her come inside after eating DIRT, SCREAM.  Tell her the dinner table is no place to lie down and chill while watching YO GABBA GABBA, SCREAM.

Valentine's Day 2011 and No, she doesn't like this picture taking business at all!!

She eats dirt.  Not like regular kids, like with a spoon or whatever else she can find in the yard that she can make into a spoon.  I really hope that's not foreshadowing, and someday she is going to make shivs and shanks out of toothbrushes and Bic pens.

Looks like she missed her mouth...


Mac is HILARIOUS.  How?  Well, she will put her pants on her head like a hat, then laugh so you will laugh with her.  She makes the funniest faces, case in point the bathtub picture above.  She also like to run into things.  Lately she likes to have gibberish conversations with anyone who will listen, and she likes to wave her hands around while conversing.  Sound familiar?

I love that Mac hasn't met a food or drink that she doesn't like.  We have started calling her lunch box, because if you leave food unattended Mac will find it and devour it.  All while smiling and looking at you like "Were you gonna eat that?"

I also love that Mac loves her daddy so much that she will follow him around the house until he picks her up and if following isn't enough then she will start the screaming routine.  She likes to wear his hats, put toys in his lap top case, and throw his blackberry at him.  I think it's because it's not an iPhone. 

So Mac is the comic relief in our house.  She is obsessed with Yo Gabba Gabba.  She LOVES Cheetos, and if I had a Cheetos face picture I'd show you.  She also loves to steal her sister's sippy cups of iced tea and guzzle them behind the curtain or under the dinner table... Oh, boy.  I can see the teenage years and it doesn't look pretty.

I'm not an overly religious person, but I can give credit where credit is due.  I'm blessed beyond belief.  Mac restored my faith in myself, motherhood, and yes, a higher power.  I love her, even when I'm yelling because she likes to roll over and try to get out of her diaper during a change.  When she's figured out how to use her booster seat as a ladder to the table, then pours out my entire 20 oz cup of tea on herself and my new magazine.  Even when I take away the TV remote for the fourth time as she has managed to change the channel while asking for GoGO's (yeah Gabbas).  I look at that FACE and I laugh.  She is one funny girl.

Who likes to pick her nose...

Happy Blogging,

Megan

Absolute Retrospect

Today is the 10th anniversary of what I refer to as my generations Pearl Harbor.  September 11th, is no longer a date, it's an event and a memory.  We will one day recall to our children and grandchildren exactly where we were when the planes hit and the Twin Towers fell.  Every year whether we knew someone or not, we will grieve as if it were yesterday. 

What I remember about that day was the information available to us on our TVs, radios, and computers.  It was unending and unedited.  I remember being glued to my TV until the last possible moment when I had to leave for work.  Then discovering that every single radio station was streaming live news.  That had never happened before. 

If you know me, then you know I am a serious news junkie, not just celebrity news, but ALL news.  If my kids would let me I would watch CNN all day.  Major news events stop me in my tracks.  9/11 was no exception.  My dad woke me, to tell me what was going on.  He said he figured one plane was an accident, two planes were war.  He was right, in a moment that I wanted him to be so wrong.

Ten years ago I mourned and grieved for the people who had lost their lives.  Husbands, wives, fiancees, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers.  It's what I could relate too.  I was  23.  Even as I type it I can't believe I was only 23.  At 23, I could relate to those losses.  I thought about what it would feel like if I lost John, my mom, my dad, or my best friend.  Unimaginable.  Still today, it's unimaginable.  On that day I was heartbroken for the broken hearts.  The people whose love of their life would not come home, share Sunday pancakes, or watch SNL on Saturday night.

Ten years later my mind is elsewhere.  Today I grieve for the children of 9/11.  My grief is different, it's a consequence of motherhood.  Ten years later I struggle to grasp a concept I have never really thought about.  How does someone explain a parent to a child?  How in the world would I explain John to Caitlin and Mackenzie?  To know him is to love him, and laugh with him, and be loved by him.  How on earth could I do that?  Explain that?  Make them feel that?

My heart breaks for those children who lost their fathers before they were born.  I watched a CNN report on the Children of 9/11 and was struck at the simple things that are missing from these childrens' lives.  Those babies born after 9/11 don't even have one photo of them in their father's arms.  How heart breaking is that?  The children that were just babies on 9/11, have only photos and videos of their mothers and fathers.  They too have missed out on Sunday pancakes.

I was struck by how quickly these children were forced to grow up.  One young man, about 12, commented that he wasn't sure what was better, that he was too young to remember, or just old enough to have distant memories and old photos.  At 12, he just wants to be known for who he is, and not because his father died in the towers.  So young, yet so old at the same time.

Another young woman, 19, commented that the children of 9/11 are in a unique group of children that watched their parents die on national television.  I never thought about it that way.  How horrific and chilling that while glued to my TV that day ten years ago, I watched her father die.  I think I knew that deep down, that I was watching people perish.  It's what shocked me and grounded me and silenced me.  Never did I think that those people where fathers and mothers.  Until now.

It's very hard for me to think about the little cutie in People Magazine.  Her mother commented on their heartbreak and her questions about her father.  A father she never met.  She asks "Do I smile like Daddy?", "Do I look like Daddy?", "What was Daddy like?".  Her mother answers every question, even through her own grief.  Like a soldier or a hero her mother pushes on through her own grief, to make memories for her daughter.  Her mother's last comment however, brought me to my knees.  She said that for years her daughter carried around her ultrasound picture, because she knew it was the only picture her father had ever seen of her.  She still has the photo in her room today. 

Today my heart breaks, shatters even, for those sweet innocents that knew nothing about hate, or violence or war 10 years ago.  Some weren't even born.  My heart breaks for the mothers and fathers that have to share bittersweet memories to make sure their children never forget.  My heart breaks for those still losing parents because of the consequences of 9/11.  This war, like that day, is still fresh for many of us.  Men and women are still leaving home for a war that began on a bright blue Tuesday morning 10 years ago today.

Hug your babies, tell them you love them, kiss your spouse.  God bless the Children of 9/11, and all the children after 9/11.  An unforgettable day, an unforgettable event with unforgettable loss.  It's a different world today, but love, faith, and hope remain... I don't have to tell you the greatest of these... After 10 years you already know...

Happy Blogging,

Megan

When Mean Girls Grow Up

I realized the other day that all the Mean Girls in high school grow up to be Mean Mommies.  I'm serious.  And not mean to their children, but mean to other mommies.  You know who and what I'm talking about.  It's true that I believe that it's ok to be envious or even jealous at times.  It goes with the territory.  Sometimes you look at other moms and wonder...How does she manage to work, bake cookies for the bake sale (FROM SCRATCH), make her daughters Halloween costume, AND manage a fortune 500 company???  I know, I've done it, and then searched in vain to find her one flaw... Only to discover it's similar to mine... Trying to live up to the EXPECTATIONS...

I remember high school.  Those girls with the perfect hair, perfect teeth, perfect clothes.  I was not one of them.  On purpose, but also because I knew I couldn't be.  I have always been different, at times strange, and when I finally accepted who I was, I stopped trying.  That was a great feeling that carried me through college, then on to adult life.  Until self acceptance came to a screeching halt at the dawn of motherhood.  On the other hand something else popped up... Mom Envy.

Mom Envy.  I had it bad.  I turned into a Mean Mommy.  I hated those mom's who had on full face make-up and cute (pre-baby sized) clothes at Target.  I was jealous of the Moms who baked and crafted, had clean houses, and clean hair.  How in the world was that possible?  I could barely eat a meal those first few months.  What was wrong with my picture?  Then I realized, with help, nothing was wrong with my picture.  It was my picture, to paint, manipulate, cover in white paint and start over.  Just like other moms were doing day by day.  What a novel idea.

Where in the world did we moms get this idea of Mom Envy or Momma Hate?  Sure we can be jealous, but let's be realistic.  Moms do what they want and what they are capable of doing at that time.  I would love to spend my days cooking gourmet (if I knew how), but with my kiddos I'm lucky if I can microwave.  So why am I jealous of the mom who cooks organic from scratch?  Well, because that's what I want.  Ugh, envy.  I would love to spend my days locked in a gorgeous craft room, with a sewing machine, making all those DIY projects from Pinterest... But I don't have a craft room, sewing machine, or time to even finish this blog without someone crying or pooping their diaper.  Mom Envy. 

So what's a mom with Mom Envy to do?  Do I become a Mean Mommy?  No.  Because I was turning into that person, and then I remembered high school me, and the bullies, and the self hate.  I don't want to be a mean girl.  I certainly don't want to be a Mean Mommy.  So I've decided to admire those who can.  Those who can DO, those who can't find the time, make a list for another time.  I don't want to be judgmental or envious.  I want to be happy and gracious.  Some of my friends have started on new adventures in their lives.  Taking risks and meeting challenges head on.  I'm so glad that I can be happy for them and not jealous.  I can take risks and face new challenges.  Stop smiling!  It's possible!

What really prompted this blog was another blog that I follow.  Little Miss Momma is someone who I admire (see what I did there?  I said admire instead of envy).  You can follow her at www.littlemissmomma.com.  I've talked about her before.  She is a crafting/shortcut genius.  I like what she writes, and I love her positive outlook.  However, after a weekend blog post, she posted to Facebook, about an Anonymous comment.  This "Anonymous" left a comment that was really mean and hurtful.  Basically Miss Anon let LMM know that she really wanted to like her but she really couldn't.  That LMM was way to fake and trying way too hard to be perfect.  That maybe if she was a little more "real" she could get on board. Yadda, yadda, yadda.  In short it wasn't nice, and I thought, REALLY?  You took the time to like some one's Facebook page, read their blog, then take it upon yourself to criticize?  Ok it's a free country and all, but why have we forgotten, "If you don't have anything nice to say..."?  It gave me the creepies, gross times 1000!

In the end, I admit I'm not perfect.  Very far on the other side of the world from perfect.  I DO want to be nicer, kinder, and more gracious.  NO MORE MOM ENVY!  Can we all try?  Let's all try to use admire, instead of envy.  When you boil it down, that's all it really is... Admiration that has manipulated into envy because it's something you're not doing.  SO WHAT?  We are all MOMS.  We are all on the same journey, battling for the same outcome, HAPPY KIDS.  So if baking, crafting, cleaning, cooking, or blogging makes you a better mom, great.  Happy moms have happy kids.  So whatever your neighbor, mom BF, BF, or person you follow/or know on Facebook is doing... Admire them.  They want what you want... A few moments of bliss, doing what makes them happy, and a sense of accomplishment. 

And I admire that...

Happy Blogging,

Megan