Changes for the new year! "Just Jenny" is now "Caffeine and Freckles".

The end of the year has rolled around again.  You can smell the new beginnings and fresh starts around the corner.  They smell hopeful and exciting, while the end of the year smells relieving and content.

I'm already looking forward to my "cleansing" New Year's shower!  As I mentioned in a post last year, I prefer the term intentions to resolutions.  I've done decent at pursuing my intentions for 2013 and added a few more along the way.

Change is a powerful force.  Change comes in such varied forms and everyone reacts to it differently.  Change can be planned or forced, or it can simply be organic.  Change can Evoke fear.  It's scary for us to think things are changing around us, relationships, surroundings, schedules, feelings, plans, traditions.  Fear, of course can bring on anger, confusion, and even chaos.

Change is almost always a positive thing in some way, shape, or form.  Even with tragedy there is change.  Working through and accepting it ends as a positive even when pain lingers.  Like most things, I'm finding, change is really about how you react to it.  If you resist, become angry, look to blame, or stress about it, change will feel negative.  I'm choosing to embrace change, no matter how trying or painful it can be.  Change is healthy and it forces us to grow.

I'm going to change the way I react to negativity.  I've become all too aware that I take on other peoples happiness as my responsibility.  Toxic guilt.  I don't plan to, but it happens.  I want to be able to make simple decisions for my family without letting myself feel I have let others down, simply because they don't like my decisions, or that it isn't ideal for them, or not the way they want it.  Comments are made, attitudes are projected, or I am simply ignored.  I then find myself doubting my own decisions which I had every right to make and had nothing to do with anyone else.  Where and how we spend our holiday, what I choose to do with my free time, choosing not to participate in something, how I solve a problem, I could go on.  There are certain people that I experience this with more than others, but even the smallest of things can fall under this umbrella of guilt.  I can't make other people change, I can only change my reaction to them and construct clear boundaries.  I cave, I make changes, I cancel, I do things I don't want to do just to avoid the feeling that I am to blame for someone being unhappy.  How dare I lat someone make me feel that way!  What am I left with? They don't feel bad! They are happy that things went their way!  They don't care to think about how their selfishness makes anyone else feel. So why do I continue to worry about their feelings?  It's built into my foundation and it's going to have to be removed piece by piece.  

I've come a long way in the last 15 years, scratching the surface, but I have a ways to go for the sense of emotional freedom I'm searching for.  I could only recognize a thin layer of it, where as now I see how deep it goes and can guess where it started.

The picture I added says it all for me.  The stages and feeling are there in the sculpture.  Starting with a lonesome confinement and ending with a liberating break out?  I hope to see this in person someday as it means something to me. Just look how undescribably happy the last figure in the sculpture is.  Change was beauty for him.  If we react to change with open arms and forth effort, the entire process is simplified.  You are focused and ready to accept the challenge and growth that comes naturally.  

I want to continue this slower pace this year as well.  I told myself I would stop rushing and purposely take things off of my plate.  Doing so has made a difference for myself and my family.  The hip surgery definitely pushed me into a slower gear.  As I heal more and more I am still trying to keep out the poisonous rush that easily whirlwinds me.  Slowing life down a bit helps with other smaller intentions, relaxing more, yelling less, enjoying more. It's a win win.

Besides that, I intend to do yoga, actually do it rather than just talk about it and think about it.  I can't go back to jogging yet and I think yoga can offer me more than fitness.  I've been eating and relaxing more than I'd like to admit, like a true winter hibernation.  I refuse to beat myself up about it, this is temporary and it's something that needed to happen. We have spent a lot of time at home for winter break. I don't feel that I have to find something new to stimulate my kids every day of break.  We do stuff as a family and we have a good time, but they enjoy pajama days at home too.  It feels natural to the season so why fight it? When we do go out it feels frustrating, like we should be home.  I'll save our busy outings for spring and summer ;-)

Another small intention is journals.  I had always wanted to write and save letters to the kids that they can read when they are adults. I've decided to get off my ass and do it, but in the form of a journal.  I can pick up and write in each of their journals throughout the year and years to come.  It will be something special for them in later years and a nice way to hold on to some precious memories of little things they do or what they were like at different ages.  

So happy New Year friends! Be open to change through out the year (big and small) and see where it takes you.

Louie

 I don't write much about my husband, as he is a private man.  I would, however, like to share what he is to me.  Not so much one thing but, one of many. 

I am no expert on marriage.  I was a child of divorce and for several years of my life, vowed to myself that I would never get married, that marriage was a foolish concept.  Today we will celebrate our 6th year of marriage and 7 years together as a couple, just getting past our newlywed stage I suppose?  We have been through a lot together early on in our relationship.  Not necessarily things between us, but being there for each other and dealing with situations as a team.  We are not the traditional family (although these days it does seem to be more common).  When we started dating, my son from a previous relationship was two years old, and his son and daughter were four and five, also from a previous relationship.  Once we moved in together I quickly jumped from having only one child to managing three children, BAM!  All ages 5 and under.  I have to admit, that felt like a wild ride, but it never felt overwhelming because he was strapped in right beside me. We now have two more children together, putting us as five children.  Day to day we have our two and mine, sharing custody of the older two with their mother.  This in itself has its own struggles and beauties.  The key is not to get caught up in the struggles for too long, but to bask in the beauty.

I have always been independent enough to know that I can do whatever it is I need to do on my own.  I'm not scared to be alone, and I was happy there, alone. The difference now is that I don't want to, I'd rather do it all with Louie.  Is there things I miss about being single? Sure!  I miss how easy it was to keep my apartment clean, picking up after myself and one kid.  I could be selfish with my feelings and decisions. I miss not missing alone time, as I am surrounded by children about 95% of the time, or more.  That is just what point of life we are at right now.  It was more simplistic to financially support my little family of two, but there is a lot more love and experiences to share and enjoy now.  Love triumphs over finances.

We never had just him and I. Kids were a part of our togetherness right off the bat. Looks like we carry a heavy load well together. We pull off an impressive balancing act.

The first thing I liked about Louie was his ability to be direct.  I tend to be surrounded by passive-aggressive people, so his direct, aggressive approach was very appealing.  I was unsure of how I felt initially.  Was this guy being rude or direct?  I had to think about it.  I was so stunned at certain points that it took me several moments to answer his questions.  I was stuck, in amazement, wondering, is he being rude? Do I need to get rude back or is this perhaps a very refreshing dose of directness?  He was, and continues to be a refreshing dose of directness. 

He made me feel like a woman.  Not all men get how to do this, and it's probably not the same for every woman.  For me, he's got it down, he may not even know it, but he's got it.  The strong arm around my shoulder, the random hug and kiss for no reason, the tender kiss on my forehead, and the willingness to be on my side and stand in my corner.  He makes me feel safe and he makes me loved. He makes me feel sexy in yoga pants and a sweatshirt with no make up.

He is supportive. He supports my ideas and decisions. He supports my dreams and my goals. 

He is emotionally supportive. This I find to be one of the most treasured. It's a tricky thing for some to be emotionally supportive. How exactly do you do it? Is it an action?  Is it words? I have been through some of the most emotional times in my life, to where I am not even sure how I would be there for someone, but he was there. His shoulder was there to cry on, his arms were there to hold me, his sense of humor was there to take my mind off of things, and his love was there to make sure I never felt alone. He was there to help me through the pain and the dark, my own personal flashlight.

He is a family man, through and through. His wife and kids come first. We are included in everything, we are a unit, and he makes sure we know how much we mean to him.  This includes being a dedicated father. He is involved and hands on, which I believe makes a huge impact on our children.

I couldn't ask for a more true friend. He can keep all my secrets, he can try to understand my feelings, and has my back like no one else can.  He can let me know when I'm being hot headed or taking something too personally. Friends make the best team. Our team feels solid, we can do anything.  

It's quite the thing he pulls off, being so strong but so soothing. With him by my side I can do anything.

He may not put his clothes in the hamper or always rinse his dish, but he sure can make this woman feel loved. ;-).  I always feel at home with him.

I love you Louie, more than I love other people :-)

Happy 6th anniversary.

Jen

To Mothers of Boys

I think we can all agree that there are differences in raising boys and raising girls.  It is still the act of raising kids, but there are some big differences.

I am a mother to a 9 year old boy, an almost 3 year old boy, and step mother to an 11 year old boy.  That's a lot of boy!  Boys are sweet, and they love their mother.  They are tough and they are sensitive.  They are malicious and they are thoughtful. They are busy and they are relaxed.  They are fulfilling and exhausting.  They are polite and they are gross.  They are funny and they are crude.  I've always loved this about boys, even as a girl.  They are all over the place.

Sometimes I think I will rip my face right off after dealing with spastic boys all day.  They are non stop.  I get tired of hearing my own voice speak out loud.  Their competitive nature can be annoying, their rebuttals can be infuriating, and their constant noise-making is draining. They are also some of the sweetest souls to walk the earth.

I so easily feel conflicted on how to react to some of the 'boy' stuff.  I want them to be strong and take on the world but, I want them to feel secure with feeling their emotions.  It used to be that boys shouldn't cry and boys shouldn't express their feelings.  Now you have the new age parenting of feeling everything to extreme depth and sharing those feelings to be a 'good man'. I guess you could say I am in the middle.  I just want them to be who they are, love themselves, be OK with showing the world who they are.  Emotions are tough, and if you have to have a good cry, cry it out!  We don't need to get all cry baby status about every little thing that stresses you, but if emotions are overwhelming, crying is NORMAL.  On the other end,  I think a huge gift in life is to be a rock to someone, even if it's just once.  Having someone be your rock is equally as precious.  I want them to experience both in the purest form.  I want to let them be boys.

I want them to handle things, work through things, but not be afraid to ask for help. I want them to let other people see them clearly.  I want them to think of others feeling, but not put aside their own.  I want them to make people laugh.  I want them to work hard and cherish what they have.

Boys are hard!  They are rowdy, and passionate, and argumentative, and full of testosterone.  As mothers to boys, how often do you find yourself saying "Calm down", "chill out"?  I say it all the time! 

Something that used to make me want to growl and show my teeth was comments from other mothers.  Mothers who didn't even have boys, and if they did, they were under 2  years old.  I would just growl inside and think of how ignorant people can be. 

Do my boys  have a lot of energy?  Do my boys talk too much in class?  Do my boys get in trouble for making fart noises in the library at school?  Are my boys messy and unorganized?  Do my boys actually enjoy teasing their sisters? Do my boys get caught making inappropriate comments (butt, fart, etc.)?  Does it seem that my boys never run out of energy?  Do my boys have trouble sitting through a movie or doing any one task for longer than 30 minutes?  Why yes, yes to all of the above!  They are BOYS you jack asses!!  This is them. This is their nature!  These are boys that become doctors and lawyers.  These are boys who become counselors to others.  These are the boys that open their own business.  These are the boys that become hard working men, putting muscle and sweat into their jobs.  These are men who become great fathers and responsible adults with huge futures in their forecast.  This is the blood flowing through their veins and if you don't have a boy, you don't understand.

Not every boy is the same but, even the tamest of boys has it in him somewhere.  Get two or three boys together and watch the explosive hyperactive carnival that takes place.  They love it!!! You could be one of those moms that like to pretend your boy isn't like all the others.  Your boy is polite and completely composed at all times.  Hopefully you will choose to stop exhausting your energy on this silly game and let your boy be a boy, it will do wonders for him, and you.

Being a typical boy does not mean they go without manners.  We teach manners to our children.  They can be as wild as they come and still have wonderful manners.  Manners are taught.  I think that is what other mothers don't realize.  That wild, and spirited behavior does not equal rude.  It isn't rude that the boy doesn't sit and play with dolls, or love to watch movies and sit still, it means he is a boy and he is different.  Being a boy doesn't mean going without feelings either.  I tend to think that boys feel a little deeper than girls sometimes.  Girls are pre programmed to talk about their feelings.  Big feeling, little feeling, all of it, we talk, talk, talk. Boys, on the other hand, tend to keep it in. It all boils up inside and comes out in other ways.  They aren't as verbal about their feelings, but that doesn't mean they don't have them.

I had learned a lesson early on in my mother-of-a-boy journey. I vented.  I shared my feelings on my exhaustion and how I was at a loss on what to do with my wild 5 year old.  I worried about him, but really I was worried that I wasn't doing the right things.  Was I disciplining enough?  Too much? For the wrong reasons? Was he an angry boy?  Was he too sensitive?  Was he too hyper?  Was he missing something from me?  Did he have ADHD?  Did he need something more than I was giving him?  No, he was fine. 

He needed me to realize that he is a boy.  A boy with large amounts of energy, feeling, and spit-fire, with smaller amounts of attention span, patience, and obedience.  He was a boy!  A real boy!  I struggled for a while with the feeling that these other mothers talked as if he were a trouble maker or bad kid.  I finally came to terms with the fact that they don't get it.  They don't get having boys and what boys are all about, and what being a mother to a boy is all about.  My boy wasn't failing, he wasn't being bad, he was being a boy.  He was a quick learner, he did well in school, he had friends, and he treated others well.  Are their limits?  Of course!  He is a kid!  Do I still tell him to calm down and chill out?  YES!  I can't do noise all day. 

Only the mother of a boy knows how sincerely sweet and caring her boy is.  He says "I love you" more than the girls, he still likes to cuddle, he would stand up for his mom at the drop of a hat, he takes pride in protecting the sister than he terrorizes, and he can't get over how cute animals are.  He is sweet, and has a tame heart. 

My  youngest is almost 3 and he is quite the boy already.  He climbs things, and jumps off them.  He sneaks candy and soda, he throws things in the house for no apparent reason.  He makes a really mean face when he is told no and he stomps away.  He breaks things, runs.....fast. He is hard to ware out.  He is a perfect little boy. 
He also loves to smooch, loves to hug.  He argues with us that he loves us more, he shares, he comforts his crying sister, he's a sweetheart. He's a boy.

So  let your boys be boys, teach them impressive manners, and don't give a second thought to what other mothers imply about your wild boy, they simply don't get it. 

Real boys become real men and we need plenty of those in the world. 

The Giving Season

This is the time of year for giving.  I believe that all year is a good time for giving, but this time especially, people give.  I have come to realize, though, that there are a large portion of people who get more out of giving than others.  I think we can agree that giving brings forth a natural emotion of happiness, pride, and warmth.  I know that when I am able to "give" to someone who needs it, or even who could just use it, I feel great.

I am sure that these people who get more, have been around forever, but the rapid take over of social media in our society has made them very apparent.  They give.  They buy things to donate to a charity or person in need, and then brag about it on social media immediately, usually accompanied by a photo and some cheesy saying about how great it is to give.  I cannot tell you how much of this I have seen this month alone.  Are they really happy enough with just helping?  I would think that if giving was enough, they wouldn't have such a strong desire to make sure everyone knows about it.  I'm not saying it has to be a secret, but I find it comical and can't help but feel like the act of showing everyone is a bit more fulfilling than the act of giving.

I wouldn't feel this way if it were, say, a picture of  kids at their first volunteer experience, where they are being introduced to the act of giving.  It's exciting, it's a memory to share, and they are proud parents.  I'm sure as a human race, we all love to give.  In my opinion, it takes away from the selfless act of giving, when you publicly pat yourself on the back for it. 

I witness giving from truly selfless people all year long.  Giving can be the simplest of gestures, but mean a lot to the receiver.  It doesn't need to be in big proportion either.  A little get well package to a sick friend, a little card to let someone know you are thinking of them through a tough time, a phone call to check in, offering a ride, dropping off a meal to a sick or injured friend, sharing a bag of goodies after you've baked all day, passing down clothes to the next parent who can use them, the list goes on.  All these little things take thought and time, and they are appreciated, and giving like this makes you feel good.  It makes you feel good because you know that you have made someone else feel good.  So displaying your giving seems a little silly.  You might as well update your status to something like 'Look at the great things I do, I'm such a good person" and then add a few hashtags, #giver #lookatme #Imadechristmashappen 

For me it is along the same lines as one of my first blog posts, called "LML".  Most people use that term when they are bragging to the social world about a great thing in their life, whether it be family time, life events, or that they got a new juicer.  It's this silly illusion that their life is lovely at all times, they "Love their Life".  Most people love life, some take it for granted, and some live in the reality that there are some pretty kick ass times in life that you cherish a little more than the rest, and there are ALWAYS going to be difficult times, in marriage, in life, in parenthood, with family, with money, with friends, with decisions, and much more!  Of course we love life!  It's what we have!  Life!   I love MY life for the whole bowl, the good, the bad, the lovely, and the shitty, THAT is life, all of it. 

Are we even aware of what our real lives are anymore?  Or do we too, believe that life is according to what we post on social media?  Most of the folks guilty of only posting things that reflect how they want to be perceived, I'm guessing are the most unhappy.  Of course we aren't always going to post about negative things.  Some things are private (or should be) and you also don't want to be perceived as a complainer.  Shame on all of us for being so judgmental.  I cringe when I see a person comment to a post about something REAL in life, venting about the hardship they are dealing with.  Here is someone being real, about real life, not LML moments, and you have "friends" that will make them feel worse.  I have witnessed people respond by telling them advice that wasn't asked for, or talking about how well something works for them, or how they don't have those problems with THEIR children.  How about a simple "Like" to show you read it and thought of them, or a thoughtful comment, that doesn't have to do with YOURSELF!

I'm thinking our friends that make sure everyone knows they are giving and loving their life have no intention of any selfish behavior, of course not, but they are so self-absorbed that they would never realize how their boasting actually appears to others, it actually defeats their whole reason for posting.

We are all different creatures though, and we can all post whatever we want on our precious social media forums, just as I can rant about random irritants on a blog. 

Love your life my friends, all of it.  You can't have the sweet without the sour, and the sweet is much sweeter when you've brawled with the sour.  Admitting there is sour is a form or raw beauty that connects you to others, and THAT, my friends is something to love about life.

Winter Break

Ahh, Winter Break.  Winter break is filled with so many things, mostly mixed feelings, LOL! 

My kids get three whole weeks off of school for Winter Break.

So many positives. 

The kids can sleep in, I will almost be guaranteed to sip on coffee before they get up. 
We don't have to "get ready".  We can stay in jammies all day if we chose to. 
We can be as busy or not busy as we choose to be.
More time to hang with the kids.
Movie days, couch cuddles, crafty days, park days, whatever we want.
We can play with friends!
We have Netflix :-)

So many unsure feelings.

Just how much will they argue with one another while home for three weeks?
Just how much arguing can I handle without drinking too coffee?
When I do need to go out, I have to take them all with me, even when they won't stop arguing.
The days will feel long.
When we get together with friends, we at least double the amount of children.
I tend to not want to go anywhere, I'm just being honest. 
Will it be a cozy not going anywhere feeling, or a get me out of the house before I go crazy not go anywhere?  They are two very different situations.

This Chrstmas

The Christmas decorations are up and the tree is decorated!  Next year my goal is to have it done the first week of December, but does it really matter?  It's done!

This is the first year I have actually allowed my children to decorate our tree.  I'm that mean, control-freak mother that does every last ornament after they go to bed.  I had plenty of valid reasons for this. I didn't want ornaments broken, I didn't want the tree to look unorganized, I wanted everything a certain way, and I just liked having the responsibility for myself.  They will have their own tree someday, right?

This year, with some coaxing from my husband, I decided to make it a "thing" that we do together.  I have to say, it turned out great.  They kids loved it.  I got to tell them where certain ornaments came from, they worked together as a team, they were excited, and they were proud.  It was an enjoyable experience to have with them.  I did re-hang some of Drew's ornaments.  Hey, he's not quite 3 years old so there was a pile of ornaments on the bottom front of the tree, he didn't mind.  It is his job to turn the tree lights off every time we leave the house or go to bed, which he takes great pride in.  I don't regret loosening my anal retentive grip on the Christmas tree.

This will be our second year carrying on our new Christmas morning tradition.  After opening presents and making a fire in the fire place, I set the table extra fancy for the kids and make their favorite biscuits and gravy for breakfast with sparkling juice.  Each of them will have a letter on their table setting which they get to open one at a time and read aloud.  The letter will brag about all their accomplishments over the past year and great things they have done.  Then they get the spotlight to talk about what they want to accomplish next year.  They all seemed to love this last year and I can't to watch them read their letters again. 

This year I am looking forward to staying home all day, for the first time, ever.  No rushing through breakfast and family morning time, no rushing to be anywhere, no getting 5 kids dressed and ready to go, no arguing about what new toys they shouldn't take with them because we promise there will be more,  no driving, no packing up all the kids' gifts, no horrific anxiety on the ride home thinking about our Christmas car wreck  years prior.  Just home, playing with new toys, relaxing, and cooking a nice Christmas dinner in our own environment. 

I am a little stressed on how we are going to make Christmas actually happen this year, financially speaking, but we always figure it out and make it work somehow, so I'm actively trying to let that stress go too.  We usually don't go crazy with gifts.  The kids have learned that Christmas is a time for family and friends and love, plus some gifts ;-)  I'm lucky to have grateful children that can see other perks to the holidays besides gifts, although I wish I could do a little more for them in the gift department.  We do have a tree this year so we are already a step up from last year.

We are not a religious family, but that doesn't mean that Christmas is "commercial" to us either.  The holidays have special meaning, religious or not.  No matter what your beliefs are, I bet we can all agree that this time of year tends to open your heart a little more.  People give more, people use caring greetings more "Happy Holidays!" "Merry Christmas!".  People cherish the way everyone comes together.  Families gather, friends embrace, traditions are acted upon, and you tend to take a moment to think about the things you are thankful for.  You hug a little longer and a little tighter. 

Some people go to church, some gather with loved ones.  Some pray together, some share their loving words with one another.  It all boils down to love. 

Treading Water

I hate to write about negative or helpless feelings. Only because overall, things are good. Life is good, I am good, but I do feel like I'm treading water. Treading water is tiring!  I am SO tired! I know it is temporary, but it is a suffocating feeling full of anxiety.  I suppose my hope is that it will lighten after getting it out through writing, just a bit.  I get very hesitant on sharing things like this as I am a pretty positive person and I hate for it to lead people to always ask me if I am OK. I am GOOD!

This recent hip surgery has been a good thing. The fracture is healing, this is good and I have no regrets. Dealing with recovery and not being able to do things I need to do (or want to do) are difficult. Naturally, as you get better, you have less help. I don't need someone to cook for me, or do my laundry anymore, I don't need someone to keep my toddler all day anymore. I am capable of doing these things now and that is a great feeling, however, I find myself feeling helpless still. I can do these things, but it is so draining. I feel like I cannot keep up. I cannot keep up with my son, or the house, or my friends, or my feelings!  When I really need to back off of walking and get some rest, I most times can't. When I do get the opportunity to rest, I feel incredibly guilty, That what ever it is I am skipping, I should be doing, because I am "better". I feel like I'm stuck in some middle ground. I'm feeling good enough to not need help, and I don't know what would even help at this point, but I feel I am treading to stay above water and keep up.  Going back to normal things hurts and drags me down.  How do you really "take it easy"? I try to sit more, I read more, I actually watch TV now, but there also,is a home to run with 2 adults and 3-5 kids residing in it. Shit needs to get done.

I'm about half way through recovery. Three more months and things should be much better. It's just going to be a long three months and I just need to verbally vomit about it.

Just as I recovered enough at start driving my kids to school (about 7weeks after surgery), my husband was in an accident.

Now let's add losing a vehicle. Again, I hate to write in fear of sounding boo-hoo-ish, but it's rough. I am thankful beyond words that my husband is OK after such an impact. The car looks horrific and he came out without a scratch.  He is my personal super hero, which is why I also know that all of this will get better.  In the moments between I am grateful beyond words to a friend taking my children to and from school.  I find myself feeling paranoid that I am taking advantage because we haven't figured out how to solve the car issue yet, or appearing that way (treading faster and faster). I've never needed so much help in my life! I am lucky enough to have a wonderful bundle of friends and a supportive family who have helped so much through this surgery. They are why I am treading ABOVE water and not drowning.

Everything feels so out of my control and I can't stand it. Now, I am not one of those all-inclusive control freaks where everything needs to be my way and ran by the one and only ME, but I can freely admit that a particular amount of control is needed for me to feel comfortable, in many areas of life.  Although I know that things could be much worse, it's a little much lately. Thank you to those that have helped through all of these obstacles. You know who you are. The dinners, the rides, the helping with housework, the taking my kids to play groups, the offers of errand running, and even just the checking in. It all means A LOT to us.

So,with sour there always comes sweet.  Before I know it I'll be going from treading to doggy paddle to breast stroke.

The Day it Changed

It has been almost five years since my husband and I agreed that I would not return to work from maternity leave.  I had been off of work since about my fifth month of pregnancy to help care for my father who was battling a rare cancer.  Cancer won just less than a month before I had my daughter.

We decided I would stay home to avoid the daycare costs and be able to be with the kids.  Having been a single mom before, I never had thought this opportunity would never be available to me.  I was nervous.  Was I making the right decision?  Would the financial struggle be worth it?  Would I miss my job?  My son was 3 years old and went to preschool for about 4 hours in the afternoon.  My daughter was a newborn baby.  I was recovering from an emergency C-section and I was drowning in grief over the loss of my father.

I woke up every morning, looked at my daughter's beautiful face, and cried lonely, confusing tears.  I felt like I had traded one for the other and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. 

We had no routine in place, it wasn't chaos, but we did not have a schedule besides a nap and bedtime.  I wasn't sure what exactly I was supposed to be doing. I had always felt confident in my motherhood from day one, but this stay-at-home motherhood was foreign to me. 

After a few months I found a local group of moms who joined together about once a week.  I did not know anyone in the town I lived in besides my in-laws.  I felt brave that I was going to show up to this play group and meet people all by myself.  I contacted them, and I showed up.  Everyone was really nice.  The kids all got to help make cookies, they played in the host's play room, and we all had lunch together.  There was nothing bad about it, but I never returned.  I felt unable to make friends.  I felt like I didn't even know who I was anymore.  I knew who I was before my dad got sick, I knew myself well.  I was fun, I was funny, I was happy, and I was me.  It took a lot to make me laugh now, I didn't smile all that much, I was very high strung, and I was lost.  I felt like I had nothing to say to anyone about anything.  My mind was busy processing how fucking sad I was, how my heart ached and I knew that there was nothing anyone could do to make it feel better.  I was not in control.  I could not make my dad better, I could not enjoy much of my pregnancy, I could not bring him back, and I could not make myself feel happy.  It was a dark and lonely place.

I remember the day that my whole vision of being a stay-at-home mom changed.  We had bought a home in Patterson.  Logan started kindergarten, and Dominique was about a year old when I was invited to a members meeting for a local chapter of MOMS Club.  It wasn't quite the same as the group I experienced before.  This was a well organized chapter that was a part of an International non profit organization. 

I attended the meeting with a friend I had made at my son's school.  She had told me about the club and had invited me to check it out with her.  The meeting was run professionally by the board members while the children had toys and a craft to keep them busy.  It felt comfortable, I felt ready to make friends.

Julie Gordon, at that time the President of MOMS Club of Patterson introduced herself to the group.  She shared that she had older children, as well as a 3 year old girl. She shared that she is still involved with the the Coast Guard, she shared that she is working on a campaign for her husband, she shared that she is a substitute teacher, she shared that she has been involved in MOMS Club for many, many years, helping another chapter to sister this chapter into existence.  She shared that she is involved in other community events and she shared her love of MOMS Club and how it was a huge factor in her sty-at-home motherhood.

I'm pretty sure I was sitting there with my mouth hanging open.  I was in awe.  It was challenging to wrap my mind around the fact that she does all these fulfilling projects that benefit herself and others. She was not just a stay-at-home mom.  She was all kinds of things and she loved it!  She knew who she was and what she loved.  She wasn't too shy to tell people what she didn' like either.  I soaked this all up, I felt excited.  I felt excited for her and I felt excited for myself that I had realized I could be doing so many things, more things that I had time for when I worked even.  I knew I had this Julie-momentum inside of me.  It was burried under all the scar tissue of my broken heart.  I wanted to GO like her, I wanted to be busy doing important things like Julie was.  I started thinking, If I was busy doing things I liked, maybe I wouldn't have as much time to think about how fucking sad I was. 

A few months later, the board had asked if I was interested in running for Administrative Vice President for the MOMS Club board.  I was surprised by there request, but I knew this was probably my ticket into Julie-hood!  I said yes right away. 

Louie was shocked when I told him.  I remember being flattered to hear him say "Who joins a club and almost immediately is asked to be the VP?".  That question made it sound as if my wonderful qualities just poured out of me for all to see.  I didn't want to tell him that in reality they needed to fill the position and had a hard time getting people to nominate.  I mean I'm sure the fact that I seemed like a level headed person and I attended activities regularly helped, but there weren't many others to ask.  That's OK though, I was excited!

I did not know what I was doing in my role, but I learned along the way.  Working with the other 4 women on the board was a cherished experience.  I got to know them, I had responsibilities other than housework, diapers, and lunches, people were counting on me that were old enough to make their own lunch, it was awesome!  I had a third baby about half way through the VP term, which had me a little lazy about my VP duties. I did not feel completely accomplished, but I felt it was a sturdy stepping stone to becoming Julie-rific.

I blossomed.  The next year I ran for Presidency. I dove right in.  I created new activities to liven things up, I created  procedures to simplify things, and I had a wonderful supportive board to back me up.  My VP was a power house of a right hand man.  We were power team and we got things done.  Although I would not have thought so the year before, being a leader felt natural.  I was comfortable in my new skin.  Mid year I started my own little side business, making pedestal plates.  I did some boutiques and I sold them through a Facebook page I had created.  I felt it was Julie-ish of me to take on another project while being so engaged in another.  I like it. 

That same month, the State Coordinator for MOMS Club informed me that she wanted to recommend me for an open Big Sister position with International MOMS Club.  I was flattered and I dove right in.  I was given the position and was now the Big Sister to three other MOMS Club chapters. 

Later that year I decided to dabble in homeschooling for my second grader.  We did it for a trimester and he did end up going back to public school.  It was an experience I would never undo.  It was challenging, it was fun, it was exhausting, and it was worth it.  I learned a lot about Logan and a lot about myself.  Al focus was turned to school.  The houseplants died, I was constantly trying to keep the baby occupied, and Dominique was thirsty for more attention.  I decided for my own sanity, I would put him back in school.  I did a great job and we enjoyed it together.

I wasn't until my term as President was over that I realized the extent of my Julie-ness.  Wow, I was really busy.  People would ask how I did it, or say how they never could.  It's not true though, they could do it.  Being that busy was just how I had began to function, it was normal.  I had friends, and my babies, and my motherhood.  I had my business to get creative with, I had my board position to fulfill.  I had my step children and I had my husband.  I feel like that year in particular I was growing at a rapid pace.  Growing into my thirties and it was starting to fit well.

This year I have chose to slow down.  Not because I do not love it, but because all the busy and the growing has allowed me to learn about myself, and what I love and what I do not like.  I realized that I want to write, I realized that I want to learn how to relax and slow down.  I want to be busy when I want to.  I want to dig into my thirties and pull out wonderful treasures.  So now I am "busy" doing that.

I told this story to a friend I made in the club.  She told me how ironic it was because when she joined the club I was President and she felt that same way about me.  So I guess I did it.  I julie-fied myself!  Others were actually in awe of my Jenny-ness.  What a wonderful cycle! 

My role as a stay-at-home mom has drastically changed since it first started.  It was all about how I felt emotionally.  Moving to Patterson was a very positive part of our lives.  I have never felt such a sense of community and been surrounded by support of all kinds. 

Thank you Julie Gordon.  Thank you for being you.  Thank you for being so Julie that it shined bright enough to push my clouds away, making me see opportunities more clearly.   It made all the difference in the world to me, and my family.

Facebook "friends" - holds way too much meaning

I recently deleted many Facebook friends.  Not out of anger, sadness, or even frustration.  I was simply trying to clean it up and make it more of what it is, a social network.  I didn't need it to mimic real life.  I have a real life.  It is filled with friends, acquaintances, and family.

I think we can all agree that Facebook has become a massive connection to one another.  So much so, that most of us follow people on Facebook more than we actually talk to or visit them.  On one hand, this is great.  You can't see everyone on a regular basis, but you can online.  Facebook allows us to keep in touch from afar, to see what people are up to, share photos, vent for everyone to hear, share happy moments.  We live busy lives and it is easier to sit at the computer than take time out to call.

On the other hand, it becomes so consuming.  You get addicted to checking on Facebook.  You spend so much time on it that you could have made several phone calls already.  Sometimes the things you read are negative, unpleasant, or even offensive, but yet we go back for more.  Sometimes people  can be a too interested in what you are up to.

I had made the decision to just scale down my "friends" on Facebook, not in real life!  There is a difference! If I have a true issue with someone and felt the need to discuss it with them, I would do just that.  Some people I didn't feel the need to have as "friends", for several reasons.  Some are not so active on Facebook anyway, some I see often in real life, some I am associated with in other real life social networks, and others, well we simply don't communicate much on Facebook.  I didn't want to feel the need to be so connected artificially.  I'm a real woman, I would prefer to connect in a real way.

It's a shame that people will take this so personally.  I'm not surprised as it seems to be the way things are in our Facebook world these days, but it still is sad.  People talking about it, trying to get more information as to "why" or "what is going on with her?", as if I have to be going through something negative to do something like that.  I am going through something alright, I am freeing myself from all this over connectivity, plain and simple.

I kept family, I kept some high school people, I kept far away friends, and I even kept some friends and acquaintances that I do see on a somewhat regular basis for my own reasons.  It does not have to be a negative action.  For me it was the opposite. 

Alone and Enlightened

I'm one month into my "New Year's Intentions" and they are coming along beautifully. More has happened in one month than I had hoped for. These may not seem major, but they are personal majors.  They are little things that I have slowly worked on for years that have seemed to be sealed off in the past few weeks. It feels refreshing; it feels new, it feels shiny.

I have always admired people that say no when they feel like it, with no excuse attached to it. People that speak up clearly and passionately when they feel something is wrong, even if no one else is, or if it is in argument to someone else. I have always wanted to cut or loosen ties to people who may have negative influence in my life.

I would say in the last several years I feel perfectly confident to argue my point on things. I also have learned when it is better to just leave it alone. It is indeed a game of "choose your battles". In the past year or so I have become completely comfortable saying "no", simply because I don't want to. The reason it took me so long was due to other's feelings. I'm a "nice girl". Nice girls do not wish to let anyone down or hurt anyone, even if it means doing things they don't care to do. That's real sweet and all, but I was ready to kick the shit out of the "nice girl" in me. I was sick of her. The key is to find the middle ground. I didn't want to kick the nice girl’s ass and then turn into a raging bitch. I'm nice, it's who I am.

This was a learning process. It is a lonely journey into who I was and who I would become. I wanted to be able to say no to things without following it up with apologies and explanations as to why I was saying no. It really isn't any one's business.

The process was much more than just learning to say no, it goes much deeper than that, and many more things have come to light through it. It was a process of knowing me well. Enjoying being alone, knowing when I felt like socializing and when I didn't feel like being with a group and being OK with that. It was also embracing and learning from the alone times that weren't so enjoyable.

The first few times you say no, people automatically think something is wrong with you. That you must not be feeling well or you must be going through something. I have learned that the more wonderful personal growth that you achieve, the more others around you tend to freak out. The changes in you are brilliant and they show, but people fear change and they fear to stand alone. Do not let these people stand in your way. That is part of it, don't worry about their feelings, and worry about yours! You feel fantastic, so keep it up! Let them talk, let them gossip about when they think is going on with you, just be happy your progress is showing. They just aren't at the right mind frame yet to grasp it, they just talk.

I have felt the feeling of being alone in many different forms. Whether it is initially a good feeling, or a bad one, it grows you. So no matter how devastating, unsure, or uncomfortable the alone made you feel, you bring something with you out of it.

My first memory of feeling alone was when my parents divorced. Sure it was a sad and confusing time in a 7 year old's life, but I hadn't felt alone until a fellow student had said "Your parents are getting a divorce! Oh my gosh!" They attitude these girls showed made me feel as if this was only happening to me. That I should feel ashamed. I felt dirty and awkward. No one else I knew had parents that were splitting up, let alone living with their father full time. I started to blink my eyes, really hard, often. It turned into a habit. A habit tangled in my nerves.

Just as I had started to feel better about the divorce, a daughter of a close family friend was over to play. I remember having a good time until in the middle of playing she asked me "So who do you like better now, your mom or your dad?" I was shocked by her question. I told her I loved both. She said "No, you need to pick one, which one is it?" I was horrified! Is this what I had to do being a child of divorce? I had to pick which parent I loved more? I couldn't bear to think about it, I didn't want to pick and I certainly didn't want to play with her anymore. I then started scrunching my nose up, often. It turned into a habit. A habit tangled in my nerves.

As most children do, I adjusted. By the time we moved to Stockton and I started the fourth grade, my blinking and scrunching were minimal. I don't really remember having that "new girl" feeling so it must have went well.

The summer before my senior year of high school we moved to Tracy. That was my next "alone time". Who has to move their senior year?! I was mad, and sad, and scared. I never really had trouble making friends, but I held onto the "I have friends, they are in Stockton" attitude, which stunted my friend making abilities a bit. There was always some guy who might offer me a ride home, or buy me a school burrito, but we all know why guys want to be friends with girls. You can imagine how much the girls liked me when they see the new girl getting rides home from the cute athletic boy. Eventually I adjusted, I made many friends and things were fine.

My next journey of alone was my first pregnancy. I was dating a guy for just a few months when I got pregnant. I was planning on breaking up with him. He was a nice guy, he was lovely to look at, but I just didn't think we were a fit. I stayed a little longer, again putting his feelings before mine. It only took about another month for me to see that I was going to leave for a reason. The right feelings were not there. He always treated me with respect and we had a good time together, it just wasn't long term. I wasn't scared of having a baby alone. I was 24, would be 25 when baby arrived. I had a decent job, I took care of myself and I felt liberated, I felt excited, I was full of positive energy and pregnancy hormones! My dad was a single father, he did it, and so could I.

This alone was different though. It was a positive alone. I enjoyed my pregnancy, I enjoyed that it was mine alone. I enjoyed that I could pick whatever name I wanted, and make decisions without including anyone else, I found joy in that. Sure, there were times I thought that it might be nice to share certain things with a significant other, but I had friends and family and I had myself. My best friend since middle school came to my appointment to hear the baby's heartbeat for the first time, which is a day I will never forget.

My dad drove me to the hospital, my sister was there to help with my delivery and my mom and dad both showed up just moments after Logan was born to see their grandson. That was a very proud alone. An alone that was surrounded by support and love.

Once Logan was here it was us. Logan and I. My sweet little boy and his momma. We were an "us" and it was beautiful. It felt natural and pure. I soaked up every ounce of it I could. He was mine, mine alone.

For the first two years I didn't date. I wasn't sure how that all was supposed to work, dating with a child. It seemed like that lines would be fine and I didn't want to mess it up. I have to say I wasn't completely alone. I had somewhat of a companion. My high school boyfriend. We spent time together, we would go out, we would watch movies, we would talk, we were physical and we were friends. I did not, however, have a committed boyfriend to REALLY be there for me. I was fine with that for a while, as I was fine being alone and felt it was healthy for me to just figure out the mom thing with nothing else to get in the way.

I met my husband when Logan was two years old. It's like we were both who we had each hoped to find one day. There we were. My dad loved Louie right away. We moved quickly and it felt fine, it was just okay, it was right. We moved in together, we fell in love. Then dad got sick. He got cancer.

I was scared to death. I was not alone, I had support. I had Louie, and I had Louie's family. I had my family, I even had my dad. I did not feel alone until the morning he died. As I stood there with his hand in mine, watching him take his last breath and tears ran down my face so quickly that they collided into one another, I felt alone. His body was there, but he wasn't. My sister was standing just next to me, but I felt alone. I felt orphaned. I felt so many things that I was lost in them. When you are lost, you are alone. I continued to feel alone for at least 2 years. I was unable to laugh, unable to showcase my impressive sense of humor; I was unable to find joy in much at all. I was too scared to feel anything but sadness. What would that mean? If I showed joy would it mean it didn't hurt anymore? Wouldn't that mean I didn't care? I was angry. Angry and heartbroken are a dark lonely place. Every holiday, a breakdown, every one of my kids’ birthday parties, just before guests arrive, a breakdown. How can I enjoy anything? I am busy, busy feeling cheated and used. This isn't even taking to account the alone feeling that came with family arguments over touchy matters after death and other relationships changing. Not knowing how to keep them alive or what to do with them. It was all bitter and lonely.

One of the loneliest days I remember was just about a week after I had given birth to my daughter. It was my first day at home alone, with baby and big brother. Logan had already put a movie on for himself and everything I needed for baby was within reach. From that morning, through the next few months, I woke up every morning, alone and crying. I would look at her, and cry. I would then cry harder about the gilt I felt that I crying about dad and not rejoicing over my baby girl. Don't get me wrong. I actually find a lot of joy during the middle of the night feedings. I would get excited that it was just her and I awake as I nursed her. It was our own alone time, together. It was the morning, that reminded me that life goes on and my dad was not a part of it, and he was just a few weeks shy of seeing my baby girls beautiful face. The mornings were too much. That was a scary alone. I didn't live somewhere like I do now where I am surrounded by support. I knew my in-laws in town and that is it. I was alone. I did feel a strong tie to Logan, as if he were the only one who knew what pain I was in, he was missing his Papa. I also was led to believe that it was inappropriate for me to possibly upset him by talking about it, so I let him bring it up and I tried never to let him see me cry. I would change that if I could do it over. I needed to cry so bad, and not just alone in the shower or in bed over my newborn. I needed to cry and I needed people to hold me.

My next alone feeling was only uncomfortable for a short time.  I took on a leadership position and quickly realized that leadership can be a lonely place.  To be a good leader, you need to stand alone.  You need to show your followers that they can trust  to follow you, that you are brave to stand alone and lead the way.  To be a good leader you must separate yourself from the group to avoid accusations of favoritism or cliquishness.  I was not always treated like a part of the group, I was treated like the leader.  You must take in all the issues and negativity and fix it without the whole group being aware that it is even going on.  You must know how to talk to people clearly and respectfully.  You must SHOW them how to spread compassion, not tell them. What started out as uncomfortable blossomed into great comfort.  It felt like my favorite pair of heels that were perfectly broken in.  I felt confident and secure in my decisions and in my leadership.  I took extra care to think of individuals as pieces to the whole.  It was a wonderful experience that I will always think fondly of.

My next alone was recent, and current. It is a fabulous alone. It is invigorating. The sun and moon feel brighter. I do what I want to do. I feel how I want to feel. I say what I need to say, and I cry if I need to cry, and people hold me. It is freeing and the feeling is addictive. Not everyone around me gets it, but they don't have to. It is for me, not them. This is a process and I've come a long way. There is a lot of road left to explore. I'm not changing, I'm simply growing. I don't let the silly little things interrupt my good vibes. I speak up about important things, and I ignore the unimportant things. I'm becoming a bit more disconnected, whether it is from Facebook, social groups, acquaintances, drama, and unnecessary "stuff". Simplicity is clean! I'm holding meaningful relationships dear to my heart and other relationships at a distance.

I'm gently putting my foot down to establish boundaries of all kinds. I'm still a nice girl; I'm just a nice girl who knows what she wants and will put her feelings before others.  It’s been the most rewarding form of self-respect.

 

2013

Ever since I can remember, I cherish every second of that first shower on New Years day.  It went hand in hand with the whole "new year", "fresh start", "clean slate" motif.  It was the first shower of the year, the first cleansing if you will.  I'd then get dressed in something I loved and was comfortable in, and try to have a good hair day.  This year it is past noon and I'm still in PJ's, but I do plan to enjoy that ever cleansing New Year shower at some point today.

I won't call them resolutions, but I will call them intentions I have going forward into a new year.  I tie them in to being a "SKITTLE".  If you don't know what I am referring to, you will soon enough because I plan to blog about that too!  It has to do with being in your 30's.  Well, it's a little more than that, changing that you embrace on your journey through 30-hood.  So stay tuned.

My New Year  intentions for 2013.

1.  I will continue to take more time for myself, whether it is my new found knitting hobby, a long bath in the evening, reading more, bliggity bliggity blogging, spending some time with my number one ladies, running an occasional errand without towing my children, and so on.  It's these simple moments when I am just Jenny.  Not the mom Jenny, or the wife Jenny, or the volunteer Jenny, just Jenny.  I missed her terribly over the past few years. Things were foggy and I couldn't see her very clearly. We are getting back in touch and I must say, she is pretty bad-ass ;-)

2.  I will not tolerate ugly behavior, or any behavior that is negative, selfish, or puts me in any sort of position that I am not comfortable with, does not have my or my family's best interest at hand, or hurts others.  People grow and mature at different rates, that is part of being human, but that doesn't mean I need to tolerate your ridiculousness. I'm stopping to smell the flowers, remember, not your bull.  So you do your silly things over yonder, and I'll do my real people stuff over my way.  I'll be meditating, learning more and more about myself.

3.  I will make more date nights happen.  It could be a night, a day, whatever.  I can probably count on 2 fingers how many times this occurred in the last year.  Court dates and funerals don't count, that seems to be the only time we get dressed up, get a sitter, and go out.  It's a shame.  It's important.  I'll let you in on a little secret.  What's almost as bad-ass as being just Jenny, is being Louie's girl.  That's all you get to know about that.

4.  I will make more time for my mother, cousins, and aunts.  They are the family I have left.  It's hard to get a free weekend with busy kids, birthday parties, sports, and laundry escapades, plus the gas money that is hard to come by sometimes, and life gets busy, but it is VERY important.  I need to remember that if I don't have the money, I do have an invite to throw out.  Come see us!  It's fun, its memories, and its precious time with my people.  The people that look like you in ways, talk like you, makes looks like you, roll their eyes as much as you, I like it.

5.  Of course there has to be something about health in here.  I need to workout more.  This has been somewhat new to me the last year, and when I do it I feel amazing. Nothing can imitate those endorphins flying around after working out.  I've started jogging this last year and need to do it more regularly.  When school gets back in the first week of January, no reason the dog, the Drew, and I can't take the jogger for a spin at least every other morning after drop off.  On the health note, I am going to be trying to prepare as much whole foods as possible.  I'm not saying we won't grab some fast food once in a while, but we already don't do that very often.  I am going to step it up a notch, buying more organic, getting rid of some foods that really aren't all that beneficial, and making more foods from scratch.  Goodbye preservatives and foods that pretend to healthy.  Hello backyard garden!  This also falls under #5, going to take a stab at growing some fruits and veggies! 

That's it, 5 things to work on.  Nothing outrageous, just simple stuff that brings joy.

It's a work in progress, no crazy stuff day one, just some good homemade cooking to start off the first day of the year, a jog with Dolly, and a soul-cleansing shower.

What are YOUR intentions this year???

Recipe Share - Potato-Leek Soup!

This morning I made my first batch of Potato-Leek Soup to have for lunch.  I've been making soup quite a bit since Fall came around, but this was first time using leeks. 

I thought I would share this recipe, as it was super simple and delicious.  I made made mine pretty thick, but you can always add more water/broth to make it more soupy.

What you'll need:

6-8 potatoes, scrubbed and sliced
3 leeks, washed well and diced small
1/2 yellow onion
butter (for saute)
1 14oz can of evaporated milk (or regular milk)
garlic (2-3 cloves)
black pepper
red pepper
dash of curry powder

Here we go:

Chop your 1/2 onion, garlic, and 3 leeks (only using the white and light green portion of your leeks).

Saute in a few tablespoons of butter until limp and translucent.

I like to keep most of the potato peel on for a more rustic taste and texture, only peeling off the boo-boo's.  Slice your potatoes and add them to your pot.

Broth is your choice, I would suggest chicken broth or vegetable broth.  It took me about 4 cups to just cover the potatoes, but add more if you like it thinner. You can always use water and a bullion of your choice. 

Bring to a boil on medium heat, let simmer for about 10-15 minutes (or until potatoes are soft.

Using a masher, mash the soup to thicken, leaving some chunks.  Bring back to a low boil.

Add your evaporated milk (or whole milk) and bring back to a soft boil, simmering for another 5 minutes.

This is where I add my seasonings.  You can use whatever is your favorite, but I used lots of black pepper, a little red pepper, a bit of curry powder, and tiny bit of salt.

Be sure to stir during the last 5 minutes so that the milk won't scorch on the bottom.

Dish up and enjoy!

P.S.  You can always swap out a few potatoes for sweet potatoes to sweeten it up and add some extra antioxidants!  Also consider adding in some kale, spinach, or cabbage for more nutrients.  For you meat lovers, bacon would be a yummy addition too!