Date-Stamp, it happened.

I had to stay home today with Char because of an infected tick bite, no it’s not Lyme- thankfully, but 10 days post bite that is now the size of a walnut, we had to start some meds.

For most of the day, by choice, I worked from home because I am fortunate enough to have the opportunity and support to do so, but as mid-late afternoon approached I could tell she was wearing down so, I took advantage of a little something called naptime. To most this may seem like a norm, don’t all three year olds take naps? Yes, for the most part, but Charli-bear is not most three-year olds (neither here nor there) but we don’t usually allow naps at home because of her growling bedtime act. However, she does still take them at daycare. Of course, it being a Wednesday, I wouldn’t want to get her off routine too much, so I opted to be pro-nap 😉 The best part? I got to take one too! That’s right folks, it’s been years since this mama has had a good, uninterrupted naptime herself, but today it happened. I even woke up before she did, allowing me to squeeze in a little more work and some dinner prep.

The point? Never underestimate the power of a nap…at any age.



It had to be THAT question

After a ridiculous day, I finally gave in. I retired to my VT sweatshirt and yoga pants-my go to attire for emotional and physical comfort. On our way to get Fro-Yo (the only kid-friendly therapy with any comparison to wine) I got asked THAT question from Madz. I should’ve known it was coming but it simply hadn’t come up yet. Of course I can always rely on my girls to turn my frown around- so I should’ve guessed something entertaining would happen but sure enough… tonight, I got the initial early childhood birth question. You know, the one that any modest mom fears; secretly hoping they will never ask and instead maybe figure it out in like 8th grade. Well, tonight I got it. Here’s a recap:

Madz: Mom, how did I come out?
Me playing dumb: what do you mean?
Madz: You know when I was born…
::::Long Pause:::
Me: ummm, well… to be honest, I pushed you out.
Madz: Like exercise?
Me: Suuurrrre, It was definitely exercise. We can call it that. Yes, exercise.
Madz: Did you stretch first?
Me: (laughing inside) umm..yes..I suppose there was plenty of stretching.
Madz: And the doctor was there?
Me: Yes.
Madz: And Daddy
Me: Yes,
Madz: And you just pushed me out?
Me: Yes

I waited for it…I knew it was coming..but thankfully at this point Charlotte was intervening with sing-song versions of the 50-nifty United States and we were right around the corner from our destination. Subject Change! I was able to divert her for the remainder of the evening but I know it won’t last. Soon the topic of labor exercises and stretching will be more specific and detailed. I’m not ready for it but I know it’s coming. Thankfully at least I know what direction to go in with it. Ultimately I blame Brent, in all regards (jk), but in this respect it’s her ability to link anything back to sports that’s impressive. Good thing I can handle my metaphors. Perhaps this will be easier (with Madz) than I thought. :::fingers crossed::::

Happy Thursday.

No, I don’t want any damn biscuits.

The waitress came over and asked “Can I bring ya’ll some biscuits?” To which I replied with “umm, no, thanks, I’m all set.” She then turned to my girlfriend and said “what about you?” My friend responded with “I think I’m good.” This confused the waitress somehow and she had to double check with my friend, “so, you do want a biscuit?” I thought to myself, how is she confused? The bottom-line, no biscuits. Two seconds later the waitress came back with one biscuit and placed it in front of me. :::FacePalm::::  I looked at my friend, chuckled and said “Did I talk out loud?”

This quick exchange is the summation of the last ten days of my life. Do you ever feel like the path of thoughts to words has been seriously interrupted? Regardless of the topic, or whom I am talking with, I have had a horrible breakdown of communicative ability. I cannot make the thoughts that are streamlined in my mind come out of my mouth and when I do clearly I have no voice to command. It literally feels like my thoughts are foggy and it’s uber frustrating. Planning anything feels overwhelming, making a decision of any sort bares the weight of the world and having a notable conversation to execute understanding and derive resolution …well that’s just a joke at this point. I’ve tried to consider what the cause could be, the rapid onset of what turning 30 has done to me? A lack of sleep? The adjustment to longer days? (but really who complains about more sun!?) Carolina allergies? Baby brain? (All moms know you can claim this when your kids are any age) Honestly, I have no effing clue. I’m frustrated and emotional, something else I don’t do well with, and I’m over it.

So what’s my plan? Well today I’m going to embrace a new day and a new week. Starting with church and then hitting the sand. I’m hoping for some R&R and family time. Here’s to faith, family, friends and fun in the sun helping me find my reset button. I’ll let you know how it turns out…

Follow-up: As I read through before hitting publish Charli is having a complete meltdown about a pancake. Clearly she’s being dramatic and is in her room until she can pull those big girl undies up; but I cannot help but extend a look of gratitude and empathy. THAT is how I’m feeling. Why can’t I just have a tantrum and move on? Nap-it out, perhaps? #adultingstinks

“Pick Something” A mom’s song.

You’ve probably heard the well-known, heart breaking song, Say Something. The one where A Great Big World meets Christina Aguilera as she belts out her need to hear just something from the love of her life before walking away. Well, this morning as I was trying to get out the door my toddler was standing on the counter, in the cabinet, indecisive about breakfast; a runaround I was not up for. She had about 30 seconds as I was putting the lid on my coffee and rather than get frustrated, I began to sing quietly to myself. And I couldn’t help but be amused with the following little diddy.

Pick something, I’m giving up on you
I’ll give you bread if you want me to
Almost Anything I would’ve fed to you
Pick something, I’m going to leave without you

And I…I’m feeling so small
She was over my head
Standing daringly tall
And I… had no coffee at all
I was still waking up
With no will to brawl

Pick something, I’m giving up on you
I’ll give you bread if you want me to
Go-gurt, granola or cottage cheese
Pick something now, or we’re going to leave

And I…will not swallow my pride
You’re one that I love
but I’m not going to cave

Pick something, I’m giving up on you
You’ll be hungry in ten if you do not choose
Almost Anything, I would’ve fed to you
Except for the pudding that I would not give to you.
Pick something, I’m going to leave without you.
Pick something…please

Mother’s Day Misperceptions


“Hope your Mother’s day has it all!” No pressure or anything, Olaf!

Today marks my sixth Mother’s Day. A day that praises, spoils and extends copious amounts of love to moms everywhere. A Day, much like any holiday, that comes with unnecessary expectations on all accounts. I don’t mean to be cynical and I’m by no means a Veteran at this Mom-thing but I’d like to think I learn and grow, as my children are; and today was no different, literally.

Of course it started out just as predictable as one would imagine; “sleeping” late while my beautiful family made a beautiful mess making me breakfast in bed (this is not to sound ungrateful-I’m truly grateful, I’m just painting a visual); the house I cleaned yesterday in anticipation for today was strung with crayons, toys, clothes, and food. Really? How long was I in bed for?? But I smiled and could see the weighted effort that was invested. Brent was trying so hard to make this a special day and my little ladies were bantering about being kind to me because it was Mom’s Day. My heart melted about a dozen times just seeing how hard my family was trying, all for me. It seemed undeserving because it is. Being a mom is just part of me, no celebration needed.

Then as quickly as I melted…so did they. The routine clothes argument, hunger pains and incessant whining, that only a three-year old is truly capable of, was the reality of my morning. We didn’t make it to church, for all the reasons stated above testing by ability to be punctual (clearly, I failed today). We made an attempt to try a new coffee shop but they are closed on Sundays, a true testament to living south of the MD. So we decided to hit up one of our favorite little outdoor spots in North Raleigh, we didn’t even make it through the village without rain, high pitch squeals and tears. So we went to our default, Starbucks-which actually was a less than stellar experience in and of itself. Cranky baristas and ridiculous lines, neither of which I’m a fan of. Brent kept apologizing but there was absolutely nothing to be sorry for, truly.  This was all very apropos for the life we lead and I would have it no other way. Well, on second thought, the fake whistle in the back seat I could do without but that’s okay. There will be good days, there will be crazy days. I will lose and regain my composure and do it all over again lord knows how many times.

I kept having these thoughts throughout the day and again on our way home tonight. Why the pressure? Why is Mother’s Day supposed to be different? It seems more like false advertising. Being a mom is hard. Rewarding, but hard. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, working mom, SAHM, Dad’s who are Moms, the hardest job is being a Mom. So while I understand the sentiment of Mother’s Day and I appreciate the effort, let’s be real. Remove the expectation and let it be. Truth be told, the “I love you” I get on Mother’s Day, the hugs, the smiles, the moments of peace- these all mean just as much to me every other day of the year. Breakfast in bed was nice but I love to cook so it’s neither here nor there, and let’s be real as soon as Charli can sit through brunch like a human being, I have every intention of getting up early for that! Of course, I do appreciate having a reason to gather with friends for celebration and fellowship but I cherish it just as much without one and really… who needs one? You do it for love, the same reason I became a mom, for love. So tonight, as I sit and reflect on the crazy day that Mother’s Day 2015 was I shake my head at the silly expectations surrounding it. I smile at the efforts and love my family invested and while I would like to say that one of the best gifts I received was the well-thought, hot pink coffee to-go mug, the wine, or better yet, the uninterrupted shower I took for a solid 12-15 minutes, a girl can find a whole new self when shaving without an audience; but neither of these are it. Without a doubt, hands down, the best gift I received today was all in a moment. An experience that cost not even a cent but is priceless in my memory and big thanks to my husband for capturing it. When frustrations got high and everyone was truly about to lose it (after already doing so a few times today) when the rain was falling hard, both inside and out, I decided to do something different. Instead of the mother-daughter tug of war I decided to dance.

Happy Mother’s Day. ox

Thursday; Dichotomy at its finest; Perspective at its best

IMG_4557Today was a long day (not as long as these poor baby birds had) but for me, it was one of meetings, really good and very productive ones but a full-day of meetings; sun up to sun down chaos, but a beautiful chaos. The sun was shining bright; my favorite summer sandals broke. I spent most of the afternoon professionally barefoot in/around my office. Shoe situation fixed. I rushed around this evening making dinner, cupcakes for school, and hustling out the door for after school/evening activities. All of which became a distant memory as I sat, rounding out my day with family, four of my favorite people, on a beautiful Carolina evening enjoying a sweet treat.

In retrospect this day was a dichotomy but the moments that stand out, are stand out moments. Watching my Madilyn stand among her peers in such a grown-up manner. Keeping perspective that while Charlotte is in a world all her own, it is one filled with sparkle and spunk and I’d have it no other way (I play this on repeat in my mind as she is carried flailing and screaming for more ice cream an hour past her usual bedtime. Declaring I AM NOT TIRED); having bare witness to a baby bird actually coming into life and last but certainly not least, falling in love with my husband all over in the “little” moments when I see him dance with his daughters, are all noteworthy moments, moments filled with quiet peace and gentle reminders of the sweet crazy and lovely dichotomy called my life.


Well, this feels off…

I realized the other day that something is off. Granted, Springtime is a time of hustle and bustle on all accounts. I don’t, by any means, have time to be “bored” yet I feel like something is lax. Then it hit me, I need to reignite myself. Life itself is a project and I can certainly say everyday is something new, sometimes welcomed and other times, well, not. I have felt like a chicken without a head and sometimes one without the energy to even try to find it. That’s when I decided to write, my default. Not just write but commit to writing. Our Frugal Project is an evolutionary one that continues overtime and I promise to document my lessons learned and notes worthy of sharing with those who care to read; but ultimately it’s time to transition this little project into something new. Something much less interesting than money saving and yet fearfully more intimate, me.

It’s a topic I’m not comfortable with but hence the need to do it. I don’t think it will be at all interesting, well some moments of documented crazy may be at the very least entertaining, but I want to validate this place in time. Secure my spot within it. So my next project, starting now is to document me. The ups, the downs, the intricacies; not in an egotistical or narcissistic manner but moreover in a transformative way that will (hopefully) allow me to look back at my 30 (eek!) year old self and say that’s where you started and this is where you are. I disclaim that to anyone who reads this, it may not be very interesting and at some points may be completely dull as shit but this is for, and about, me and my process of this crazy, humble, blessed, terrifying, manic and much loved life. If at some point I can uncover, re-discover, document or ignite even just one thing, it will be worth it.