Ahh...the mark of the end of summer....the first day of school! I have been counting down for this day since we said good-bye to our last visitors of summer. As soon as the vacations are over, the suitcases unpacked and put away and the last of the laundry done, it get into this "what to do" rut. The temperatures soar over 100 degrees most days and the humidity soaks my poor kids faces and bodies. It is no fun to be outside unless you are in the pool and if anyone has tried braving a poolside morning with a toddler and an infant, it is more than a little challenging on a good day. The promise of school beginning means there is something to do. But it is so much more than that around our house.
The first day of school means the predictability of routines. We thrive on routines and structure in our house. The mornings, afternoons and evenings all flow much more smoothly. Even on non-school days, there is more fun, less fights, more laughter and less tamtrums. School means the house is always clean, the laundry never piles, I have some "me" time, Connor runs out energy and gets an exceptional Christian education. I am more patient, Connor is more receptive to everything because he isn't bored with the monotony of being at home.
There is a small piece of my heart that is always sad about the first day of school. It's like he is opening another chapter of his life and I understand he is only 3. But I'm not being dramatic here. If you have children, how fast have the last 3 years flown? I know before I blink my eyes and turn my head, I will be taking pictures for the first day of Kindergarden and beyond. Better enjoy it before it passes. Or better yet, my new favorite little mantra, "Be present."
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Friday, August 12, 2011
ugh...and I thought being a girl was hard
Okay, so let me set up the scenario for you:
I am doing my make-up at lightning speed because I am running behind this morning. Connor is in my way, as usual, and he reaches for one of my make-up brushes. He then proceeds to start swiping his face with me, trying to mimic everything I am doing. When he used to do it, I thought it was so cute and the brushes are soft so I thought they felt good on his face. Now, at 3, I was irritated because I was rushing and told him to put it back because make-up is for girls. He responds, "When I grow up and be a girl then I can put on make-up." **Sigh....as I realize that apparently kid and grown-up differences haven't completly taken hold in his little preschool brain. So I say, "Buddy, when you grow up, you will always be a boy. You're special because you are a boy and Alaina is special because she is a girl." To which Connor replies, "But I want to make-up." So I try to reason and say, "But Connor, there are so many cool things boys can do that girls can't." And in my head I search and search for a really good, cool example of something that will make Connor understand how cool it is to be a boy...but I come up empty handed. I was raised to believe I could do anything the boys could do, I have every intention of raising my daughter with the same go-get-em, "I am fierce" mentality.
Now, having a boy, I feel like boy's get jiped. Girls have most of the dress-up options covered and Connor is getting to the age that he likes to play dress-up. Usually he wants to be a pirate or a cowboy, but without spending a crap ton of money during the Halloween season, he's S-O-L in the costume department. (PS- I'll be making some costumes for him soon.) Girls play all the same sports, they can participate in all the same activites as the boys.
It's tough having a boy...if a girl wants to play with boy toy's then she is a tom-boy. But if a boy plays with girl toy's, well, sterotypes can be harmful and brutal and downright mean. I feel like from the get-go a boy has to be a certain way so the child and the parents aren't being judged and looked down on. I guess this point really hit home for me yesterday afternoon when I took Connor to gymnastics. YES- Connor is in gymnastics and I am A'OK with it. There are ZERO sports options for 3-year-old's to run out their energy, learning to play cooperatively with others and start developing eye/hand coordination. Gymnastics was our only choice and low and behold, he is the only boy in the class. Wouldn't you know, I got the dirtiest looks from a dad sending his daughter in the same class. He kept eyeing me and then looking pitifully at Connor, as if I am subjecting him to some form of public humiliation. I wanted to ask, "Is there a problem?" But I kept my mouth shut and just let it be.
I guess I want my son to be empowered and proud of his being a boy/man the exact same way I want to instill that same empowerment to Alaina.
I am doing my make-up at lightning speed because I am running behind this morning. Connor is in my way, as usual, and he reaches for one of my make-up brushes. He then proceeds to start swiping his face with me, trying to mimic everything I am doing. When he used to do it, I thought it was so cute and the brushes are soft so I thought they felt good on his face. Now, at 3, I was irritated because I was rushing and told him to put it back because make-up is for girls. He responds, "When I grow up and be a girl then I can put on make-up." **Sigh....as I realize that apparently kid and grown-up differences haven't completly taken hold in his little preschool brain. So I say, "Buddy, when you grow up, you will always be a boy. You're special because you are a boy and Alaina is special because she is a girl." To which Connor replies, "But I want to make-up." So I try to reason and say, "But Connor, there are so many cool things boys can do that girls can't." And in my head I search and search for a really good, cool example of something that will make Connor understand how cool it is to be a boy...but I come up empty handed. I was raised to believe I could do anything the boys could do, I have every intention of raising my daughter with the same go-get-em, "I am fierce" mentality.
Now, having a boy, I feel like boy's get jiped. Girls have most of the dress-up options covered and Connor is getting to the age that he likes to play dress-up. Usually he wants to be a pirate or a cowboy, but without spending a crap ton of money during the Halloween season, he's S-O-L in the costume department. (PS- I'll be making some costumes for him soon.) Girls play all the same sports, they can participate in all the same activites as the boys.
It's tough having a boy...if a girl wants to play with boy toy's then she is a tom-boy. But if a boy plays with girl toy's, well, sterotypes can be harmful and brutal and downright mean. I feel like from the get-go a boy has to be a certain way so the child and the parents aren't being judged and looked down on. I guess this point really hit home for me yesterday afternoon when I took Connor to gymnastics. YES- Connor is in gymnastics and I am A'OK with it. There are ZERO sports options for 3-year-old's to run out their energy, learning to play cooperatively with others and start developing eye/hand coordination. Gymnastics was our only choice and low and behold, he is the only boy in the class. Wouldn't you know, I got the dirtiest looks from a dad sending his daughter in the same class. He kept eyeing me and then looking pitifully at Connor, as if I am subjecting him to some form of public humiliation. I wanted to ask, "Is there a problem?" But I kept my mouth shut and just let it be.
I guess I want my son to be empowered and proud of his being a boy/man the exact same way I want to instill that same empowerment to Alaina.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Heaven is For Real
Today I needed something to do. I went grocery shopping early in the morning and Connor and I had a water fight outside, but (if you saw the weather outside today, you would completely understand) I had zero desire to do anything except sit around. Yes, there were dishes to be put away and re-loaded, laundry needed to be switched and another load started, the kitchen could have been picked up and there are still some groceries left to find homes in the crowded pantry...but the skies were so overcast and ick....
Ben and Connor went fishing and Alaina was down for a nap so I opened up my Kindle and decided to start Heaven is for Real, a book I had downloaded months ago but never had the courage to pick it up and read it (I'll get to that in a minute). When we were flying to the Jersey Shore in the beginning of July a lady sitting next to me shared it with me. She said she wasn't very far into it, but she already thought it was a fantastic book. I tucked it away in the memory bank thinking I needed to read it soon. I had it downloaded since we got back home from vacation but I was really nervous to read it. Colton (the boy in the book) was about the same age Connor is now when he goes through his medical emergency and, if I am really honest here, there are some parts of being a Christian that make me fearful.
However, I turned on my e-book and finished it in one afternoon. I can honestly tell you that this is the best book I have ever read in my entire life. That is saying a lot because I have read a lot and love to read. This book (and I promise I am not giving anything away here) makes me completely re-evaluate how and why I pray. The way I view my children and the way the Lord views children. It has rocked me to the core and in the best way humanly possible. There are chapters when I am trembling from crying so far, completely immersed in the "ugly cry" where I couldn't catch my breath (Thank goodness Ben and Connor had gone fishing by this point!) and there were chapters when tears fell silently from my eyes knowing the beauty and wonder at the grace, mercy and hope my Father provides for me. The details provided by Colton made my jaw drop, gave me chills and had me full of promise.
I am thankful that one day a few years ago a friend introduced me to a Beth Moore Bible Study with girl's I barely knew and they opened my eyes to the glory of our Risen Savior...since then I have witnessed God's presence, I have seen the ways prayers lift up the down-trodden and have felt the Holy Spirit descend upon myself and Alaina when our loved ones were lifting us up in prayers while we were in the hospital. I see the sunrises and sunsets and know the beauty and their colors (you will get that color reference when you read the book) are a taste of what's to come.
I feel like I am blabbling along but I can not, under any circumstance, convey in any human words how moved I am by this book. How touched I am by the purity, innocence and true testimony of a 3-year-old who has no clue what the testimony really means. If you remember, place it in your memory bank, download it for another time or check it out from your local library. I promise- it is worth every page.
Ben and Connor went fishing and Alaina was down for a nap so I opened up my Kindle and decided to start Heaven is for Real, a book I had downloaded months ago but never had the courage to pick it up and read it (I'll get to that in a minute). When we were flying to the Jersey Shore in the beginning of July a lady sitting next to me shared it with me. She said she wasn't very far into it, but she already thought it was a fantastic book. I tucked it away in the memory bank thinking I needed to read it soon. I had it downloaded since we got back home from vacation but I was really nervous to read it. Colton (the boy in the book) was about the same age Connor is now when he goes through his medical emergency and, if I am really honest here, there are some parts of being a Christian that make me fearful.
However, I turned on my e-book and finished it in one afternoon. I can honestly tell you that this is the best book I have ever read in my entire life. That is saying a lot because I have read a lot and love to read. This book (and I promise I am not giving anything away here) makes me completely re-evaluate how and why I pray. The way I view my children and the way the Lord views children. It has rocked me to the core and in the best way humanly possible. There are chapters when I am trembling from crying so far, completely immersed in the "ugly cry" where I couldn't catch my breath (Thank goodness Ben and Connor had gone fishing by this point!) and there were chapters when tears fell silently from my eyes knowing the beauty and wonder at the grace, mercy and hope my Father provides for me. The details provided by Colton made my jaw drop, gave me chills and had me full of promise.
I am thankful that one day a few years ago a friend introduced me to a Beth Moore Bible Study with girl's I barely knew and they opened my eyes to the glory of our Risen Savior...since then I have witnessed God's presence, I have seen the ways prayers lift up the down-trodden and have felt the Holy Spirit descend upon myself and Alaina when our loved ones were lifting us up in prayers while we were in the hospital. I see the sunrises and sunsets and know the beauty and their colors (you will get that color reference when you read the book) are a taste of what's to come.
I feel like I am blabbling along but I can not, under any circumstance, convey in any human words how moved I am by this book. How touched I am by the purity, innocence and true testimony of a 3-year-old who has no clue what the testimony really means. If you remember, place it in your memory bank, download it for another time or check it out from your local library. I promise- it is worth every page.
Monday, August 1, 2011
So after 7+ weeks of either traveling, vacationing, packing or unpacking for vacation, visitors, and just plain old madness, I am back. I am back to having a clean house and a laundry schedule. I am back to hitting the gym. I am back to my normal routine. It feels so good to get back to what "normal" means in my house, but alas...all my excitement about getting back in the groove came to a crashing halt this morning.
I packed my gym bag last night and the kids bag so I had ZERO excuses in the morning. Recently I have been having a tough time getting up in the morning (which is strange for me since I am a morning person) and this morning was no different but I got everyone ready and out the door (albeit a couple minutes later than I wanted). We got to the gym and I decided to weigh myself and see what 7 weeks of damage can do. A LOT! A lot of damage! Almost 15 pounds, sore knees, lethargy, uncoordination, not fitting in clothes, feeling blah all the time has hit me like a ton of bricks. But, for me, it's more than just the weight that is sticking around. That extra baby fat that lingers in all the undesirable places. It is not having the energy to keep up with Connor when he plays soccer. Feeling like I am going to fall asleep in the evenings when we are outside with the neighbors. It's losing that "sexy" feeling when Ben comes behind me to smack me on the butt. It's barely being able to stretch out my knees when I have had them bent too long cutting fabric. It's feeling decades older than 31. It's headaches for no apparent reason. It's that blah fog that encompasses my day to day activities. The mundane ones...I don't even have the excuses of going above and beyond. Nope...it's the laundry, the dishes, the vacuuming, the dusting, the mopping, the bottles, etc.
A girlfriend reminded me of something last night that I had totally forgotten and so, before this blog becomes more EMO and "I think I need roll over and die", I am going to keep reminding myself of this one phrase..."Who are you?"
After Connor was born, I lost myself then too. I felt like I wasn't anybody. I was a cook, a maid, a financial planner, I was a taxi driver, I was an event planner. While I know I am all of those things....who am I?? I am Connor and Alaina's mom, I am Ben's wife, I am SSG Boyce's wife...I wanted a piece of something that was just me. That was all mine and didn't attach me to anyone or anything else. I will forever be Connor and Alaina's mommy and Ben's wife but some of what I am feeling is more than just extra post-pregnancy weight...it is a loss of Tiffany. So, with that being said and a very sad and blue place right now, I am working for a goal. I am signing up today for the Infantry Soldier Half Marathon that will take place in November here in Fort Benning to benefit the National Infantry Museum and (as soon as I figure out where the sign up is online) I will be registering for the Mogadishu 5K in Uptown Columbus in honor of the 6 fallen Rangers that gave their lives for that particular campaign. I am finding myself again. Running a 5K and a Half is all about me. It is my goal, it is my journey, it is my preparation and the finish line is mine. Without working outside the home, it is hard to carve out a place uniquely for you in your family. This is my chance to clear my head, strive and work towards a goal and stand on my own two feet in a part of my life that doesn't rely on anyone else. I guess I needed this more than I know. All the other benefits will follow; dropping weight, more motivation and energy, increased stamina to keep up with 2 kids but it is the thrill of accomplishing something as Tiffany that brings me more excitement than I can put into words.
In all the hectic and craziness of life, don't lose yourself. Find yourself somewhere. Carve out a piece of your family that is singularly, beautifully yours. Be a role model for your kids that you can be your own person and be a contributing member of your family all at the same time. Make yourself the kind of mom that your son's want to marry and your daughter's hope to be like when they grow up. Be that well rounded ("zen mommy" :) ) that I know is in your heart and soul to be. That's what I am working for now...
I packed my gym bag last night and the kids bag so I had ZERO excuses in the morning. Recently I have been having a tough time getting up in the morning (which is strange for me since I am a morning person) and this morning was no different but I got everyone ready and out the door (albeit a couple minutes later than I wanted). We got to the gym and I decided to weigh myself and see what 7 weeks of damage can do. A LOT! A lot of damage! Almost 15 pounds, sore knees, lethargy, uncoordination, not fitting in clothes, feeling blah all the time has hit me like a ton of bricks. But, for me, it's more than just the weight that is sticking around. That extra baby fat that lingers in all the undesirable places. It is not having the energy to keep up with Connor when he plays soccer. Feeling like I am going to fall asleep in the evenings when we are outside with the neighbors. It's losing that "sexy" feeling when Ben comes behind me to smack me on the butt. It's barely being able to stretch out my knees when I have had them bent too long cutting fabric. It's feeling decades older than 31. It's headaches for no apparent reason. It's that blah fog that encompasses my day to day activities. The mundane ones...I don't even have the excuses of going above and beyond. Nope...it's the laundry, the dishes, the vacuuming, the dusting, the mopping, the bottles, etc.
A girlfriend reminded me of something last night that I had totally forgotten and so, before this blog becomes more EMO and "I think I need roll over and die", I am going to keep reminding myself of this one phrase..."Who are you?"
After Connor was born, I lost myself then too. I felt like I wasn't anybody. I was a cook, a maid, a financial planner, I was a taxi driver, I was an event planner. While I know I am all of those things....who am I?? I am Connor and Alaina's mom, I am Ben's wife, I am SSG Boyce's wife...I wanted a piece of something that was just me. That was all mine and didn't attach me to anyone or anything else. I will forever be Connor and Alaina's mommy and Ben's wife but some of what I am feeling is more than just extra post-pregnancy weight...it is a loss of Tiffany. So, with that being said and a very sad and blue place right now, I am working for a goal. I am signing up today for the Infantry Soldier Half Marathon that will take place in November here in Fort Benning to benefit the National Infantry Museum and (as soon as I figure out where the sign up is online) I will be registering for the Mogadishu 5K in Uptown Columbus in honor of the 6 fallen Rangers that gave their lives for that particular campaign. I am finding myself again. Running a 5K and a Half is all about me. It is my goal, it is my journey, it is my preparation and the finish line is mine. Without working outside the home, it is hard to carve out a place uniquely for you in your family. This is my chance to clear my head, strive and work towards a goal and stand on my own two feet in a part of my life that doesn't rely on anyone else. I guess I needed this more than I know. All the other benefits will follow; dropping weight, more motivation and energy, increased stamina to keep up with 2 kids but it is the thrill of accomplishing something as Tiffany that brings me more excitement than I can put into words.
In all the hectic and craziness of life, don't lose yourself. Find yourself somewhere. Carve out a piece of your family that is singularly, beautifully yours. Be a role model for your kids that you can be your own person and be a contributing member of your family all at the same time. Make yourself the kind of mom that your son's want to marry and your daughter's hope to be like when they grow up. Be that well rounded ("zen mommy" :) ) that I know is in your heart and soul to be. That's what I am working for now...
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