A break and an accomplishment

I couldn't finish December. What I meant to be playful and fun got to a deep place with me after the horrific events of December 14th. Instead, I threw myself into everything possible with my kids, keeping all those families who could not close to my heart and in the front of my mind. And you know what? It was one of the greatest holidays ever.

We made it through a 2 year old's birthday party since then (yeah, she's two! yikes!) and we're preparing for a 7 year old's birthday party in three weeks. Equally as mind blowing.

The news of year, so far, though? I GRADUATED FROM COLLEGE! At 32 years old I finally have my Bachelor's Degree in Integrated Supply Chain and Organizational Management. I get things done. And its documented. Finally.

I know this seems silly to most, but I spent a total of 13 years working toward a degree. What started as a teaching degree, moved into this as my work life expanded and my time spent working in a school system soured my outlook on a teaching career.

I promised my grandma when she died 9 years ago that at some point, I'd go back. I'd find something, I'd go back, and I'd get a college degree. For sure. Back then, I didn't even believe it myself. It seemed completely impossible but over time, I dug out of that dark place and moved forward with my plan.

Since returning to school 4 years ago I have gotten engaged, lost a job, gotten married, gotten a new job, bought a house, had a baby, and enjoyed many unbelievable moments in between. To say it was easy would be an understatement. I am forever in the debt of my husband for his support in helping to keep the house running (and for being cool with me taking on some student loan debts!). But I do not regret a moment of it.

If you're looking o change your life, do it. You can. Trust me. If I can, you certainly can.

The Elf on the Shelf

I have seen the many insane Elf on the Shelf tricks posted on Pinterest and blogs galore this time of year. I have also see the posts declaring the “overachieving moms” crazy for the lengths they go through to keep their children enchanted this time of the year.

I’ve also see the real news and decided there are bigger things I could be debating and choose to remain out of this one.

We do, however participate in the Elf on the Shelf tradition. Every year Kiki the Elf appears and moves about the house. We have never forgotten to move him, but hanging upside down is about as creative as we get. It’s ok though, our son (who is almost 7) loves this guy and truly believes he is a direct link to Santa. If nothing else, we get about a month of good behavior.

We had no idea what we were in for as we busted Kiki out this year, with an almost 2 year old on our hands.

While I’ve heard people say they feel the elf is creepy, I never got it. Until I had a little girl sobbing on the floor pointing at a curious elf peeking at her from the fireplace mantle. That should have been my first clue we were in trouble.

As he moved on top of the living room valence, she avoided that part of the room.

When he sat in the dining room window, she ate in the living room.

However, when she spotted him hanging upside down out of a can light in the living room ceiling it proved to be more than she could handle and her real fear was revealed.

 (please note: she doesn’t speak this clearly, but as I am fluent in what she speaks I’ll translate for you dear reader)

“Momma! Help him down!”

“L, he’s fine. He’s just an elf reporting back to Santa”
“He’s gonna fall”
“Nah, he’s holding on tight and he’s got some magic dust up there – he’s fine.”
“Momma pleeeeeease!”
“L, no. He is fine.”
“Momma…JESUS IS STUCK! STUCK! HELP JESUS DOWN!!!”

Aha! She’s not grasping this is an elf, she’s convinced that Jesus has appeared in her home and is putting himself in perilous situations. Apparently, all that money I’m shelling out to the expensive but WONDERFUL church-based daycare is worth it – she’s got the meaning of Christmas down! But, if this is going to continue much longer, I may need to think of a way for the elf to let her brother know he’s on the good list and cut out early.

Where are my eyebrows

This morning we suffered a terrible catastrophe at our house.

After a night spent running up and down the stairs to assist a baby with a cough (is there anything sadder or more maddening at 2 in the morning?) I struggled rolling out of bed and getting started. I just kept telling myself to keep my eyes on the prize, there would be coffee in the kitchen.

I was wrong.

I’m not sure how it happened or who to blame, but at this point finger-pointing just seems trivial. The point is, I had to start my day 100% unassisted by my precious black gold (I seriously rely on coffee this much).

I basically lost all ability to function and get us out of the door in good order as a result.

I am unintentionally engaged in a makeup free Monday at work today. So if you see me today, allow me to clear up a few things.

Yes, that is 1 ½ eyebrows on my face. I had a regrettable plucking addiction in my teens and 20’s, now they really don’t grow back (there’s a hint I wish I knew back then).

Yes, I do have pores that big.

Yes, they still get that many little pimples and blemishes.

No, I am not sick. Just pale without a little color added to my cheeks.

I arrived at the office to find we only had decaf coffee in the building. I’m not even sure why we have decaf coffee in the building, let alone why it’s the only option today. But after getting down on my hands and knees and digging through the kitchen cupboards, I found a few caffeinated packs. I also contacted purchasing about this.

Happy Monday everyone. Hope you’ve got all your eyebrows and your caffeine system is full!

We may have been robbed, but I don't care

Right now, my house is a mess. It's possible we were robbed but I'd be hard pressed to tell the difference between an actual ransacking of the place or the simple trail of happiness my kids have left behind. I should not be sitting on my couch, under my favorite blanket, watching a crime show that will probably freak me out the rest of the day, while listening to my neighbor mow the lawn.

My kitchen is a mess.

The bathroom needs to be cleaned.

Laundry needs to be folded.

The floors could use some serious attention.

I should shower, do my hair, and my nails. I'm heading out for my husband's birthday dinner tonight. We have a sitter all lined up (thanks grandma and grandpa!) so I'll be getting a hot meal without any crayons located anywhere on, or under, the table.
But I declared that today, Momma was taking a break. A glorious 2-2 1/2 hour break during naptime. I have a sweet embroidery project I've been wanting to dig into (my eyes needed a break after 45 minutes!). I have a list of possible books to read that I wanted to look into further. New recipes I wanted to find. I missed my blanket, my creepy shows, and the mere silence of being alone with my thoughts. For the duration of one nap, I'm doing precisely what I want to.
The dishes will still be there.
The tub can be scrubbed in the morning.
Another spin in the dryer never hurt laundry.

The floors shall be swept tomorrow.

The ransacked look around us is what I'm calling "Memory Chic". My kids play hard, laugh hard, and love hard. This house and the mother sitting in it are both wearing the evidence of this proudly. So today, instead of trying to "fix" what they've created, I'm "fixing" myself and feeding my soul to great a sweet little fresh-from-nap sleepy eyed girl with the same level of happy, devoted, love that greets me every day.

Be selfish moms. Kick back, relax, and recharge. Your kids will remember the giggles, hugs, and snuggles  much more than they'll ever recall your preparations for a Better Homes and Gardens photo shoot that will probably never happen.

Housework is temporary, childhood memories are forever.

"Melmo Geen!" trauma on Sesame Street

Parenting 101 factoid: Consistency is important for kids.

I’m not just talking about the daily routines or similar caregivers – this apparently goes much deeper than I ever realized or experienced with my oldest child.

I was laid up on Monday with a case of the Mondays paired with a massive allergy attack, it was far from a pretty day at our house. My oldest is visiting his dad this week and the youngest headed off to daycare so I could attempt to rest (she’s teething and I feel like I have newborn again at night on top of all this).

When she arrived home, she wanted to read some books. Normally I love it, but Monday all I wanted to do was continue laying on the couch with my eyes closed. Everyone sit down for a minute and get your judging hats on: so I offered to the 18 month old that she could pick out a movie to watch instead.

This is rare. She’s actually never watched a movie before. She knows where they are and she’s seen her big brother pop one on as she’s heading down to bed in the evenings before but its never been her chance before. She ran like a crazed lady down the hall and picked out a Sesame Street DVD she’d been eyeballing titled “Being Green”.

Let me fill you in on the premise in case you’re not familiar with this blockbuster film. Elmo and Abby are hosting a telethon with the usual cast of characters manning the phone bank. They’re raising money and awareness for “Being Green” and taking care of the earth by reusing, reducing, and recycling. Now you’re up to speed.

I was impressed when she sat with me on the couch and was paying attention. She pointed out all her favorites “Melmo!” (Elmo), “Abby!”, “Coo-ee!” (Cookie Monster), “Eh-nee!” (Ernie) and was really enjoying her big girl movie time. That is, until Elmo asked Abby to cast a spell to allow him to be Green and take care of the Earth all the time.

If you’ve seen Sesame Street you know two things. First, Abby is not very good with a wand. Second, her parents should demand a tuition refund from that Fairy School – it’s not helping. Needless to say, the furry red monster was suddenly completely green from head to toe. My daughter took one look at me, her face filled with concern, and clasped her hands at her chest as she watched Elmo running across the screen yelling “ELMO IS GREEN!!!” in a panicked fashion.

She screamed at the top of her lungs “Melmo geeeen!” and looked near tears. She hopped off the couch and ran to my husband – screaming and panicking that Melmo was geen. We started to console her and tried to “explain” he was ok and he’d be all better in just a few minutes – but before we could fully console her Cookie Monster snapped, and ate his phone at the phone bank since no one was answering his requests for cookies.

This lead to a tearful child begging him to stop “No Cooo-eee…No!!”. Again, hands clasped at her chest and a concerned look on her face.

At this point, I shut the movie off. I don’t need years of therapy bills for her down the road thanks to “Being Green”. She was concerned for Melmo and Cooo-eee as I put it away and walked her back into the movies and told her to find something else. She chose “Elmo in Grouchland”, and when Elmo and Cookie Monster appeared in normal fashion, she smiled broadly and seemed relieved as she informed us “Melmo better.”

My recommendation to parents? In addition to a consistent daily routine, keep their Muppets the right color. You’ll thank me later.

We opened a bakery

We did it. We decided to start our own little bakery with the goal of making safe goodies for food allergy sufferers to enjoy.

The main goal would be to get our goodies into classroom and birthdays throughout the land to let every kid feel completely normal and part of the group. No more "special" plates for kids. They'll get the same piece of cake or cupcake or cookie that everyone else does. This might not seen like a lot to most people, but to a kid (and the parents of these kids) its monumental.

The Bon Bakery came to be from the delightful way Ben said his name when he was little. "I'm Bon" was always followed by the most infectious, beaming, friendly little smile this world has ever seen. No one on the outside could tell that at a moment's notice, that smile could disappear behind a swollen face and hives thanks to food. Nor could they see the anxiety that any of those reactions could make that smile disappear forever. This bakery is "Bon's" Bakery.

Its driven by his Momma and step-dad who have an insane love of cookies, both our kids, and baking treats. Combining these three loves has driven this passion to a new personal level. We want to help kids like Bon experience things. Hopefully, people who are nervous to cook for an allergy kid will reach out to us. It IS daunting and scary if you're not used to it. After five years of navigating this food allergy jungle - we're veterans, but always looking for new ways to spread our goodies and the message behind them.

We've had a little boy sit alone with a different treat because a classroom treat that was brought in wasn't safe. It hurts. We've had a little boy who has been teased for his different "safe treat" during class parties. It infuriates. And we've had a little boy smile so big and squeeze us so tight when we've been able to recreate something he thought he couldn't have. Its inspiring.

Please visit our Etsy store at http://www.etsy.com/shop/TheBonBakery or find us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/TheBonBakery. Help us spread the word and educate people to the needs so many kids and adults face. We might not be able to find a cure, but we've yet to meet a problem that a really good cookie can't make better - especially a safe cookie.

Olan Mills is my Hell

Let’s get the kids pictures taken together!

Clearly, it’s been about 25 years since my mother wrangled two children into an Olan Mills to get pictures taken. Judging by the tone of eagerness and excitement in her voice, portrait studio visits must be comparable to labor in the grand scheme of motherhood: over time you forget the pain and enjoy the end result.

In 25 years I’ll be glad we went. Right now, I think it’ll be 25 years before we try again.

The six year old was a dream getting ready at home. It’s nice when they know how to dress themselves and can follow directions (when they choose to). The 18 month old somehow turned this into 20 minutes of cardio that would leave Jillian Michaels sweating and panting on the living room floor. And that was just getting her dress on, we didn’t get to hair yet.

I’d like to mention, Grandma hadn’t arrived yet either. She wisely showed up about 5 minutes before we had to leave the house – so no prep work for her. I’m writing that move down in my book of “Things to do to my children as revenge when I’m a Grandma”, its right underneath “pay for them to use that TV cart through the grocery store”.

I grabbed the comb and an easy hair clip for the girl and got the kids in the car the minute Grandma showed up.

When we got to the studio, the boy started practicing his smiles. They the most plastic looking faked things of all time. And he couldn’t do them without closing his eyes. Great. As soon as the girl saw the photographer, she erupted into tears. I’m not sure what she thought the lady was going to do to her, but she was petrified.

We get into the room where she screamed and cried and would not get within 10 feet of the photographer. And I had to remain within 1 foot of her at all times. We spent a lot of time cropping my legs out of pictures later that day.

The rest of the day resembled what I think gets edited out of The Biggest Loser day one work outs. Two grown women jumping up and down in outrageous manners, sweat pouring down them, making crazy faces, while someone sits in the corner and screams and cries (I’m referring to the girl, not myself). Finally, we told the photographer to just keep snapping and we’ll do what we can.

Half our pictures feature a screaming baby and a boy with the fakest forced smile ever plastered on his faces as he nervously glances at his partner in crime out of the corner of his eye. Another 49 percent of the pictures feature that same fake smile, but this time a very mad little girl clearly giving us all a stern talking to for this torturous afternoon.

But there, in the remaining 1 percent, was one perfect picture of a happy, sincere little boy and his sweetly smiling, calm, happy little sister. Looking precious and perfect and angelic. It’s the kind of picture that comes in picture frames when you buy them. I snagged that sucker up, secretly happy that mother had decided this would be fun.

I also dropped the cash for one of the fake smile screaming fit ones. Someday, 25 years from now, someone’s going to tell my why they don’t want to take my grandkids for pictures. And I’m going to show them why they owe it to me to get it done.

Multitasking Mom skills

Today, I accomplished multiple goals by doing on project. That's what I call multitasking :)

I should have cleaned the house, wrote a paper due for school tomorrow, started a stack of work I brought home with me, or done some laundry. But instead, I cleared out the dining room and set up.....MY NEW SEWING MACHINE!

My mom got me one for Christmas after I'd gotten some help from my mother in law on learing to sew and making a doll for my daughter for Christmas - and I mostly fell in love with all the possibilities I could do.

As an avid pinner, I've been stockpiling things to make to improve our homes and lives (that's what all my pins WILL do, right?) but hadn't really gotten the guts/time to get something started.

Until my sweet little boy who is turning 6 in a couple of weeks turned to me and said he sure would like a blanket sewed to match a handmade pillow his grandma made him last Christmas. And his final request? Sure would be cool if I could do it.

Grandma and I hit up the fabric store Saturday - and they were sold out of the EXACT fabric to match the pillow. We found the same family though. And thanks to a great pinterest link (Click here for the patten)- I was on my way.

It's basic and simple. It took about an afternoon to do. But more importantly - it was my first solo project. And it was for my little boy. And that moved it to the top of the list, here's the final result and I'm VERY happy with it!

Striped side:

Even got some fancy stitching on there!

The flip side is frogs and snails - perfect for my boy!

The goals achieved? I sewed something. I made something from Pinterest. And most of all? I made my son's day - before furthering my career or education, I'm still a momma loving to go the extra mile to make the memories we're both going to cherish :)

Bullied at work - what's a mom to do?

Alright kids, here we go. Am I just a mom who struggles with kindergarten and keeping things off the living room floor? No. I’m a working mom with career goals. Over the years have they changed? Well yeah. My priorities have changed.

Do I want to rule the world? Well, I already do. I’m the final say on the outfits in our house. On the tv shows, when friends can come over, when friends must go, who gets a bath when, how much food “counts” as a dinner, and a plethora of other items.

Do I want to rule another world? Not so much anymore. But I wouldn’t mind managing a small corner of it or at least being treated like I’m not an idiot. See? Change in priorities but completely doable, right?

So I’ve got a real problem with people strolling into my corner of the office (note: not my corner office) and trying to tell me how to do my job. Not so much if this is an actual boss or executive – but when you’ve worked here for 3 months and 2 years experience? I really don’t need to hear it. In fact, when I get these lectures from the new kiddo – who I shall refer to as DB from here on out – all I really hear is blah-blah-blah.

I know this Is a male dominated industry, but it still gives DB no right to speak to me or anyone else as if we’re inferior idiots to him. Most of what he says is wrong or at least slightly off base. He needs help with simple tasks non-stop. And answering a question once isn’t enough – we have to answer it at least 4 times a week, every week. There’s no learning when you know it all already, right? Not sure why he’s asking so many questions if he knows it all though….perhaps that’s part of my idiocy.

I have loved this job and my work at this company for the duration of my time here. Yes, there’s been hiccups along the way, every job has them. But now, to be degraded daily and spoken to like a child (did I mention I’m college educated in this industry with 10 years experience?) is disgusting. To get no assistance from any level of management in correcting this when dealing with it personally didn’t work is disheartening.

My choice from the execs? Sit here and take that – or I can be demoted to another department. One where my brain will slowly rot and my co-workers will wonder, what on earth happened to me? I’ll keep my pay but ever moving up will be even more of a challenge.

Do I swallow my pride and continue being treated like garbage?
Do I just leave the situation and stress for something I can do in my sleep?
Do I try to find another company and job I’d love like I’ve loved this one?
What do I tell my kids if I take the demotion?
What WOULD I tell my kids if this were them?
What would you do?