8 Months Going on 14

I'm raising a teenager now.

We go to the park and Cub gives me that look like, "Uh, can you give me some space? I've got friends here." Or the goofy faces that used to make him laugh now get an eye roll. Like, "Mom, stop being so dorky, gosh."

When I used to be the apple of his eye, now he flirts with sales ladies, little girls on the playground, and any and everybody else, gushing over, batting eyes, and what does Mom get? The "here, hold my bottle." Thanks.

Before long I'll be dropping him off at daycare a block away, just so the other toddlers don't see him pulling up with mommy.

It's Raining Cheerios!

I used to work in restaurants as a hostess. It was my teenage gig. A fun little job to meet people, make a little cash and hang out. And of course check out all the cute older boys too!

But there was one particular group of creeping, crawling individuals that I couldn't stand -- the Cheerio kids!

The little stinkers that spread and shed and mushed and gushed, and crunched and munched Cheerios all over the tables, inside the booths, and of course deep into the carpet.

It was always when the restaurant was jammed pack and I was anxiously looking for an open table for some impatient, irritable, hungry couple, that I'd stumble upon the trails left by a Cheerio kid leading me to the one table that was now open but covered in slimy Cheerio-saliva gunk. And since the bus boys were too busy, being that we were slammed, guess who had the privilege of wiping the salmagundi down? Yep, mois.

But now, I have a Cheerio kid. Gulp.

And now I will forever be associated with the secret, or rather, not so secret, Cheerio society.

This afternoon Cub and me were getting fro-yo. (Me eating a tub full of fro-yo covered in goodies I had no business eating, him eating mushed bananas from the toppings section) I brought a safety stash of the big C's in case the banana wasn't going to do it for him. As soon as he caught sight of the flimsy ziplock bag he went nuts! Thrashing and kicking and knocking everything out of the way that stood between him and his Cheerios, pushing the cute, little, devious whole grain snacks all over the freshly mopped floor.

I immediately averted my eyes from the young store clerk that just finished mopping up. I knew her eyes were probably narrowing down at us, concocting some evil scheme to ban all the Cheerio kids from the establishment forever. But there was nothing I could do.

Then there was the CRUNCH.

My official initiation into the Cheerio society. My flip-flops accidentally crunched those little boogers on the floor and I knew it was over.

Sorry, clerk.

The best I could do was clean up the mushy yuck from the table and pray she would forgive me for leaving the trail of Cheerio debris all over her nice shiny floor.

Double-Dog Dare

Remember the Double-Dog Dares?

I don't know where kids ever came up with that, but to double-dog dare someone was the ultimate challenge! (If you click on DDD above, I did find a kinda cool site that tries to speculate and dig back to the origins of it)

Everybody remembers in the movie, A Christmas Story, where a kid double-dog dares character Flick to put his tongue on the frozen flagpole. Of course Flick had to do it. He couldn't dodge a double-dog dare. He'd be a total punk! So Flick ends up stuck to the flagpole like an idiot.

I'm starting to think we need more double-dog dares in adulthood. Not trivial, petty, peer pressure. I'm talking about double-dog dares that propel us to GREATNESS!

As I've been dishing lately, I'm working to overcome a few challenges. One of them is the ultimate LOVE challenge. I've double-dog dared myself to love beyond measure. To stretch to new heights in the love arena. In every aspect of life.

Everybody knows one should never pray for patience. As soon as you do, you'll get hit with every scenario that will test your patience. Same thing happens with LOVE. Once you seek to love harder, you will immediately find loving -- much harder! Like that guy that cuts you off on the freeway, the neighbor blasting music at all hours of the night, your co-worker, family members, etc, etc...

So over the last 24 hours, I've looked my spirit self right in the eye, woman to woman, and double-dog dared her to nail this love thing.

And I'm actually quite surprised by how invigorating it's been. Like preparing for a marathon. The competitor in me is ignited. Ready to kick some double-dog dare butt! (We'll see how long that lasts when I'm stuck on the 405 right smack dab in rush hour!)

I don't like losing. And as much as I pretend to like pouting at times and, yes, whining. I am a true winner. I'm persistent. I'm motivated. I'm a double-dog darer! Like a sniffing police dog on a mission. So when I set out to conquer this challenge, I want to bring it home, baby! Even if it takes a lifetime.

Now don't be going up into your imaginations trying to figure out where I'm challenged with love or with whom, nosy Nellies! Because the love I'm talking about is,

Patient, is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. It does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. It never fails.

Now ain't that something?

What will YOU double-dog yourself to do today?

Introducing Guest Mama "Dawn"!!

Hey, Mamas, it affords me great pleasure to introduce our first guest mama, DAWN, to the Baby Knack!

Dawn is a mother of 3 (God bless her soul!) -- 9 months, 3 and 6. Her stories really belong on a reality series. These beautiful children are a -- Dawn, dare I say, a hot mess?? In a hilarious way, of course!! Lol.

Dawn's stories always have my stomach hurting from laughter. Her girls, the 3 and 6 year old, are brilliant, sassy and pickled with a sense of humor. They definitely keep Ms. Dawn on her toes!

Here are some of her stories... (apparently her kids are fixated on the derriere!)

BABY PHAT

Today, I was out shopping for new jeans to celebrate losing more baby weight. While pushing the basket, my 6 year old daughter came up behind me, put BOTH hands on my butt and made my booty shake! All I could say was, "Why?" In which she replied, " I like to see it jiggle". Of course after that I wasn't in a celebratory mood and tried to get out of the store as fast as I could just in case anyone heard her.

BUTT CHEEKS

The other day my 3 year old was undressing with her back toward me. She had on a dress with lots of buttons down the back. Her dad helped with the buttons. When she was able to slide the dress down, she pulled down her undies, exposing her little 3 year old booty and grabbed two handfuls, squeezed, and then looked over her shoulder and said "butt cheeks"! Then started laughing hysterically. All I could do was shake my head. I could see her doing that in front of company!

Apparently Dawn's already preparing to be a grandmother in this story...

DA' KIDZ

So, last night during dinner out of nowhere, my 6 year old daughter asks, Mom what days are you going to be open to watch my kids? I'm thinking Friday will be good for me 'cause I'm going to need to do things like, get my nails done and like my hair. Soooo, how does that sound to you? Are you, like, going to be available or should I bring them another day? She then turns to her dad and says, Dad, if Mom is not available can you watch them for me?

Of course, I was sitting there speechless. I think I told her that I wasn't going to be around because I had my own hair and nail appointment. So my husband replies to her, You can drop the kids off anytime.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks, Dawn!!

All you other fun mamas out there, please feel free to send me a funny story or two if you have one at HindsWriteProds@gmail.com. I can't post every one, but I'll do my best!!

Love.

The Sleep Sack.

The last few nights I've been sacked!!

Like a Quarterback.

I'm in the middle of a nice, peaceful sleep, probably dreaming about something lovely, then BOOM out of nowhere -- I get sacked!! The gang on Monday Night Football would even be impressed.

Allow me to explain...

For some odd reason over the last few nights my husband has been in this unconscious protective mode.

(Remember when you used to ride in the front seat while your mom was driving and suddenly she'd throw out her arm across your chest to keep you from falling forward at a stop even though you were like 18 years old? Well, this is happening with my husband in his sleep.)

He keeps thinking I'm going to roll off the bed whenever I turn over -- even though we have a CALIFORNIA KING BED and I haven't "rolled off the bed" probably since I was two, if even then, -- and he immediately grabs me up and pulls me to the middle of the bed in his sleep.

The first time this happened I almost peed my pajamas!
I didn't know what happened!

There I was in a deep sleep and all of a sudden I'm being grabbed up out of my sleep by these big, strong arms, like an intruder had broken into our home, only to hear my husband say a foggy, you were about to roll off the bed.

Initially when this happened, I thought, that's strange. I've never rolled off this bed or any adult bed for that matter. What's going on in my sleep? I thought it was ME.

But now this has been happening over the last 3 nights!

Last night when it happened yet again, I quickly defended myself and said, Babe! I'm just turning over! At which point his body went limp and fell back into a deep slumber.

I asked him about it this morning, and if this is going to continue to go on. And if so, maybe I need to start wearing football pads to bed. He had no recollection of even doing it! He chuckled.

He has a lot going on at work lately and different things on his mind, so it makes since that his subconscious is a little on edge. And most likely, we think he's thinking I'm the baby for some reason in his sleep. Even though Cub hasn't fallen asleep in our bed in months!!

I'm certainly glad his protective reflexes are on guard and stand alert, but can a girl get a good-night's sleep without being tackled? Geesh.

I Ate Poop.

This evening Cub, me and daddy were all sitting together at the dinner table. It was a lovely Sunday evening. We had just returned home from a Sunday afternoon cruise along Malibu and were feeling pretty darn good.

I decided to mash up some avocados for Cub's dinner since he hasn't had any in a while and I had these perfect plump organic (ooh lala) ones from the natural food store. Yum.

So we're all sitting there, just big fat happy campers. And I say to my husband, I don't think he's pooped yet today. Because you know that's the only topic of discussion these days. Forget what's on the news, the injustice and poverty happening around the world or anything else of adult interest and content.

My husband makes a comment about hopefully he'll get something out before his bath. And I agree. Definitely before bath or tomorrow morning -- NOT in the middle of the night.

We carry on, enjoying feeding Cub. Laughing at every little smile, expression, chomp and what not. Just doing what all silly new parents do. Then Cub starts making "the face". That red hot poop face. We're trying not to laugh because his face is literally beet red. Almost purple. If I didn't know any better, I would've called an ambulance because it was so ridiculously red. The poop face by itself is very unflattering, but all the more hilarious. Anyway, we don't want him to see we're cracking up, because our little munchkin is trying really hard to focus.

Then it's over. Just like that.

Cub's back to chomping down avocado and some butternut squash I threw on the side. Easy enough. I can definitely smell the results but it seemed like a pretty uneventful poop.

I start wiping down Cub's face preparing him to get out of the high chair and I notice there's some avocado on the chair. I swipe it off. Licking the remains from my finger. Then -- STOP!! What the ??... it's EVERYWHERE. Avocado EVERYWHERE. WAIT -- that's NOT avocado!! I just ATE poop!!

I'm in shock. Not just because I ate poop, but because this crap (pun intended) is ALL over the high-chair, on Cub's little chubby legs, feet, and now my sundress and thighs, which he's rubbing his poopy heel all up and down on.

I just sit there. Frozen. My husband's telling me to do something. But I can't. I'm poop paralyzed.

My husband then jumps up and gets some wipes. I manage to somehow get Cub out of the chair and to the changing table only to find MORE poop mysteriously popping out of random folds and crevices. Where did all of this come from??? My husband's enjoying every moment of this. (Side note: he was with Cub all weekend, so this is my turn to handle the diaper change. Great.)

Cub's finally clean. We get him into the tub. All is well. But to top it off, as daddy continues to laugh at mom getting poopified, Cub does a nice fountain of urine all over daddy's jeans. Now that's my boy!

As I sit here recanting this story to you, I'm suddenly remembering... I STILL haven't washed my mouth out! Quality.

Puff the Magic Snack-on

I've been in the FI-AH, ladies!

When it rains, it pours, right?

Remember a few postings ago I was talking about being in the "fire" when life presents situations that get HOT and force us to persevere? Well, I'm in that fire right now. The Refiner's fire. I can't wait to come out of this GOLD! Nothing life-threatening or major, just the little stressors in life that force us to our knees. Fun.

That being said, today my life was saved by Baby Einstein and Baby Puffs, you know those little dissolvable cheerio-like snacks? Cub recently discovered these treats and now he can't get enough of them. What are they hiding in those things, anyway?! They should have a WARNING on the label.

So I was feeling super overwhelmed and exhausted. Wishing moms could take a "sick" or "personal" day. Yeah right! Not because I didn't want to be with Cub. Just to take a tiny moment for myself to collect some of my thoughts and, ok, I'll say it -- pout! (There's a situation I'm dealing with right now that's extremely frustrating and unfortunately nothing seems to be moving it into a better direction, except prayer!)

Anyway, so here I am, overwhelmed, emotional, trying to keep a smile on my face for the little guy, while also trying to cling to every last bit of patience I have, and nothing seems to be satisfying him. The toys he has so much fun with are suddenly boring and stupid. All he wants is mama's attention. Which would be awesome if I didn't have -- dishes piled up to the ceiling, laundry that hasn't been done in centuries, homemade baby food needing to be jarred, not to mention business stuff to handle, and the list goes on and on. Also Cub's been a little more needy lately as he's learning to crawl. He gets easily frustrated and then just wants me to do everything for him. Of course I fall into that trap every time!

So back to Puffs...

Here I am at my wits end, trying to distract Cub with every toy imaginable then I come to it. "Give him puffs and plop him in front of a Baby Einstein video!!" Now before you start throwing rattles at me and telling me what a terrible mother I am -- that's the problem with kids today, their parents use food to manipulate them and the television to babysit them!! Yes, I know! And I agree! It is terrible. But I was desperate, ladies!! Cut me some slack!

And guess what? It worked!! Cub sat in his high chair as content as can be smashing puff snacks into his little mouth and giggling with the Baby Einstein puppets. Voila!

And mommy got to put away all the dishes, jar up the food and... breathe. Ahhh.

I promise not to make a habit out of it!

Ouch.

So you guys always hear about my various sleep solutions and or, er, rather blunders. Here's another one...

This morning Cub went down for a nice, deep sleep nap. It was perfect. Until the garbage truck came in all of his splendor, thrashing and crashing around right behind Cub's window. Nice. Good Morning to you, too!

Ok, no problem. We'll catch up on nap #2...

Flash-forward to this afternoon, we're out and about having a lovely day. It's about that nap time. Cub falls asleep in the car. When we get home I have to do my famous transfer to the crib. I put his snuggy blanket in my chest for him to nuzzle into. He does. All is going well until for some reason I have to adjust him and since I don't have any free hands, I use my teeth to pull the snuggy away -- only his fingers were wrapped in the snuggy!! Nice quality love bite from mommy!

Luckily it only came with one momentary half-asleep shriek, then back to sleep.

Exhale.

Snob Mom.

Yesterday I was at a natural food store buying Cub some fresh produce. Lately I'm all about cooking my own baby food. It's such a pat on the back to whip out a jar of freshly cooked veggies that I've prepared! I saw another mom there with a boy a little older than Cub. I asked her advice on what foods to prepare since I'm a novice. She gave me some suggestions then mentioned a grain I had never heard of before. I asked her about it and she almost laughed in my face. She was floored that I had never heard of this special grain. She looked at me as if I had been serving Cub Cheetos all his life. I kindly smiled and reminded her I'm new to all of this "natural" stuff so she told me just to stick with what I know, the basics -- mushing up the regular veggies.

I saw another mom outside. I decided to ask her for her input too. She looked a little embarrassed and then confessed to always giving her baby store-bought jarred food. We both laughed with relief. She had never heard about that special grain either. I wish I remembered the name so I could tell you guys. Maybe then you could laugh at me too!

I've noticed a lot of other snobby behaviors amongst moms. And I know I've been one too.
We get snobby about what types of toys are bought -- are they imported? Natural wood? French?! The brands of clothes they wear, etc. What pre-schools we're considering, and the list goes on.

I've also seen the compartmentalizing of friendships amongst moms. I've been a friendship boxer myself. By this I mean specifying where and how certain friends fit into my life. Putting these friends into a "box". I used to always say "my church friends" to non-church friends. As if to devalue the importance and closeness of the friends I've gained at church vs. the friends I make in the "real world". Stupid. One time I was invited out to a park date with a "friend". She had other moms coming that I didn't know. When we got there, we were introduced as her "[blank]" friend. I don't want to bust this mama out, so I won't say which box she put us into. I remember my feelings being slightly hurt. Why did we have to be the "[blank]" friend? Why couldn't we just be her friend? It was almost as if she had to justify being friends with us. This was a rather snooty group of women. But we're no charity friend either!

I'm not sure why we do this. I suppose we all just want to fit in. And being a snob makes us feel better about ourselves. Ew.

At the end of the day, if our kid doesn't get into the top daycare, pre-school, prep school, wear only x-brand and play with french toys, they won't be lesser human beings. Perhaps they'll even be COOLER human beings. Ha!

The Capacity to Love

I've always wanted more than one child.
I wasn't an only child and I love the dynamic that siblings bring to a family.

I still want more than one child, God willing.
Yet staring down at Cub at times makes me wonder if it's really possible to love another child as deeply as I love him. Intellectually, I know it's possible. Yet in my heart it seems so foreign and strange.

I understand mothers love every child differently, not more or less. But it's still mind-blowing to me.

I took a yoga class last night. Our instructor started off the class by talking about "fierce determination". How we must approach these poses with fierce determination, in honor of all we've lost, specifically pertaining to 9-11. But she also spoke about love and the fierce determination we must have in order to love harder, and push beyond our limits, like a seemingly impossible yoga position achieved over time.

I suppose that's what happens every time we add another child to the mix. Our hearts stretch and expand, twist and turn, and make room for more love. Maybe we need a yoga pose called Loving Mother. Imagine how advanced that pose would be!

Parents magazine recently had an interesting article about spacing your children. The pros and cons of age differences, waiting vs. knocking out one by one, etc. I found it pretty interesting. Check it out here.

The Evolution of Friendship

I have friends. Quite a few actually. Some are married. Some are not. Some have children. Some don't. Some are super successful in their careers. Some are super successful in their personal lives. Some are very encouraging. Some just make me laugh. Some truly inspire me. Some make me mad. But each have their own place in my life. For whichever season we're in.

A lot of times I find myself "mothering" some of my friends. The part of me that is genuinely concerned about them is real. But when I take a really good look at this habit, often times it's a little laced with judgment and even more humbling... jealousy.

I spoke with an old friend last night. She wanted to address a few of my "mothering" comments made to her last time we were together. I couldn't argue with her. She was right. I was being too nosy and judgmental about her relationships. When I took a step back to see where I was coming from, I realized, even though it had been apparent deep down, that I was envious of her freedom. She is single and very successful in her career. She has hopped on planes around the world on romantic excursions. She's a NYer!! A jet-setter. So much cooler! And yet I remember the time when she used to think the same of me.

I realized I envy her freedom not because I'm living some demure life of bondage. Quite the opposite in fact. I'm LOVING life right now. My life as a mother is new and exciting, fulfilling and enlightening! I cherish every wonderful moment I get with Cub. The new heights I'm reaching in my marriage. The creativity overflowing in me. And many other great occurrences peaking at this time in my life. So why would I be envious? Because there are parts of the old me that I'm still hoarding away. The me that could get up and go at any given moment. The me that could spend some ridiculous amount of money on a PURSE that nothing fits in. The me that could book a ticket to some exotic place just because I felt like it and could. The me that had very little responsibility and a whole lot of SELF.

I was thankful me and this old friend had the conversation we had because it forced me to do some mental housecleaning. And reflect on my friendships in general. How they've changed throughout the course of life. Like a river pouring into and out of the Caspian Sea.

They changed when I was single and running wild. They changed when I got married and started taking life and my Spirit self more seriously. They changed when I got pregnant with Cub. And they've changed with Cub's arrival. Sometimes these changes have been really hard. And other times really refreshing. But I'm so thankful my friendships continue to evolve. Whether into something far greater or when they have to take a bow and part ways.

But most of all, I'm grateful that they've changed me.

Friends Shouldn't Let Friends' Toddlers Spill The Beans

From my friend's three-year-old daughter, while watching me change Cub's diaper:

"Like one time, I couldn't get my poopy out, so, so my mommy had to stick her finger up my booty to get it out. Then it all, like, came out."

Classic.

Ego Punkd

I'm a punk. Really, I am. Tonight I left the gym with my tail between my legs. Actually, more like dipping and dodging the people that were in the class I was supposed to be in. Let me explain...

So I got this free trial gym offer at a really high end gym. I'm totally psyched about it. I haven't been a gym rat in YEARS. And it's encouraging being around other sweaty, out of breath people. But this is one of those gyms you feel like you have to shower BEFORE going to, like cleaning up your home before the housekeeper comes to clean. It has a bit of that "scene" to it. (On a side note, I saw Dr. Phil working out there a few days ago. Like most celebs, he's much shorter in person. Go figure. I almost stopped him for some quick advice. But I was late for a class. ;-)

Anyway, I'm really digging the place and I've been trying to take advantage of all the classes while this trial membership lasts. So tonight I decided to try out a funkercise class. You know, one of those funk, hip-hopish classes. Don't ask me why. Well, the obvious answer is it would be fun, right? But who was I kidding? Did I really expect to keep up? Uh, yeah. I mean, this is a gym class, not some pro dance class at Broadway Dance NYC.

So I strut my little self right into the class. Quickly surveying the room. Making sure I wouldn't be the only one embarrassing myself through these dance moves. And afterall, I am half-black, which makes me an easy target for onlookers. Everyone wants to see if the black chick can keep up. Like we're supposed to be born with super-power rhythm. I guess it might be true for most of us, but hey, I only have half the rhythm! After sizing up my classmates, I felt pretty confident. They all looked like normal, everyday people. Not too in shape, not too out of shape, not too anything. Just right. There were even a few women in there who had to be knocking on 50, 60 and 100! I kid you not. Oh, I can definitely keep up with Granny, I thought. Uh, think again.

Then the music starts. Great bass pumping beats. I giggled to myself. This is going to be a blast!!

Until the choreography started.

Everybody in the classroom busted out in these MTV video moves. And there I stood like the geek at the high school dance stumbling over my feet. I tried to play it off for a little bit. But it only got worse. I then found myself watching GRANNY!! I was trying to follow after HER moves!! But I couldn't even keep up with her! As soon as the instructor turned his back to change the song, I was out of there!! I ran out of that classroom so fast, I could have beat Usain Bolt!

I decided to hide in the cardio area until the class was over. But either way, I'd eventually have to pass the classroom, running the risk of bumping into someone from the class. I couldn't bear to hear them laugh, haha, you're the half-black chick with no rhythm!!

So I spied on the class. Yes, I hid in the corner and spied. Watching all the everyday people, dancing like Janet and J-Lo. Once I saw them packing up to leave, I did another Usain Bolt to the locker room. Where I bumped into Granny. She really must have been at least a foot shorter than me and I'm only 5'3". Our eyes locked. Shame all over me.

Next time I'm sticking with Yoga.

Knock Me Up!

Will somebody please knock me up?!

No, seriously. Just kidding.

I've always had bad PMS. Since I was a teenager I've struggled with that fierce beast within that rears her ugly head around the same time each month. Somehow it seems to have gotten worse with age. You'd think it would have mellowed out by now. But I feel crazier the older I get. Or maybe I just am crazier?

Contrary to most women I've spoken to, I was much more even keeled during pregnancy. I was more patient, calm, peaceful and generally more pleasant to be around. While my pregnant girlfriends were driving their husbands to Timbuktu, my husband was probably admittedly enjoying me more during pregnancy! One of his buddies joked that he should just keep me knocked up. That'd be great if we lived on an Amish farm.

So here I am trapped in this loony house, waiting for the hormones to subside. Wishing I were pregnant again. Not literally. But wishing I felt as calm and peaceful as the pregnant me. Instead of this crazy, tired, emotional roller-coaster me.

And on that note, me and the beast are headed to bed. Good night, and good riddance!

Ready or Not

I hear people say a lot, when I'm ready, about things.

And I say it too.

We say, I'll step out of this dead end job, when I'm ready. I'll start living my life more devoted to God, when I'm ready. I'll start this new diet, when I'm ready. I'll be more honest about my situation, when I'm ready. I'll forgive this person, when I'm ready. I'll reach out to that person, when I'm ready. I'll stop being sad about xyz, when I'm ready. I'll shake this depression, when I'm ready. I'll confront my past, when I'm ready. I'll start healing from my emotional scars, when I'm ready. I'll stop smoking, when I'm ready. I'll give up this addiction, when I'm ready. I'll get pregnant, when I'm ready. I'll stay pregnant, when I'm ready. I'll have baby number 2, 3 or 4, when I'm ready.

But is there ever a RIGHT time? In some instances, yes.
But in most, no.

If we're honest with ourselves, there's always something getting in the way of us doing the right thing or preventing us from being ready.

Pregnancy and raising children freaks a lot of us out. It's like, WOA. That's why many of us go running in all different directions when it stumbles upon us... when we're not ready.

Although I think it's funny that I hear so many of my friends say, "All my life I tried not to get pregnant, now that I'm trying to get pregnant, I can't!" So what happens when we think we're ready for something, but that thing or scenario isn't ready for us?

I thank God Cub was born when I was not ready!
Sure we were "planning" on getting pregnant and starting to put everything into place. I'm not talking about logistics, etc. I'm talking about ME. The big fat self-centered me.
Sure, I believed I was ready. But the core of my being was not. And I'm STILL not...

Now, now, before you start thinking I'm doubting my ability to mother or spiraling into some deep, dark place, let be clarify. By not being ready, I mean I am relieved I don't have all the answers. That I'm still in a vulnerable enough place to be open to growth. See, if I was ever fully ready to be a mother, I would be perfect. Which we know is not possible.

Motherhood, just like marriage and any other strong relationship, acts as a mirror. It shows us a true reflection of our self. It's like a reflection of our self in High-Definition. We see every little flaw, freckle, mole, blemish, pore, glistening drop of sweat, and of course also the minute details that make us so unique and beautiful too!

In being a mom, I can no longer be stuck in the YOUTUBE. I can't make it always about ME. Even as much as I'd love for it to be! In reality, we should never be in the YOUTUBE, but I tend to crawl up there and get cozy way too often!

Someone once said motherhood is the greatest sacrifice a woman will ever make. Sounds great. I don't know if it is or not, but I do know that it's WAY up there. But I think more importantly, it all really boils down to LOVE. Love is the greatest sacrifice. Love is about putting someone else above yourself. Ouch. Self-denail is not fun. At least not for me! It's easy to do when I feel like it or feel ready to do it. But unfortunately, it's usually when most of us are right smack dab in the fire when love is needed the most. When it BURNS!

I am so grateful motherhood hasn't required that real burning from me yet. I've felt the heat here and there, but not the FIRE. But one day, I'm sure I will. If I don't, I'll never grow. At least not to my potential.

However, LIFE has required this of me. And trust me, there have been MANY times where I've yelled up at God about various scenarios, I'm not READY for this! Or, Hey! I wasn't READY for that!

And guess what he's yelled back at me?

Then GET ready!

Gee, thanks.

If you wait for perfect conditions, you will never get anything done. - Ecclesiastes 11:4

Typical.

Came across this very funny cartoon site: http://www.everydaypeoplecartoons.com/index.php

Thought this particular cartoon was perfect for the Back to School season...

A Note to the Twins

Dear Twins,

Next time you decide to jump ship and leave me hanging (literally), can you please give me warning? First it was the Milk Man, now it's you.

I understand you feel used. You've been raw, sore, sucked, pulled, tugged, bitten, inflated, deflated, pumped and lumped. It's been a lot in a very short period of time. I get it. But do you really have to abandon me all together? We weren't working with a lot to begin with, but we got by. We were cool.

Remember back in the day, it'd be you and me struttin' around like we were somethin'? I never just had you all out there like some women. I gave you some freedom, but you also had boundaries. I tried to frame you well without being too obvious. I even dressed you in fine linen and sorts. We had it pretty good, right?

Even when you first came out, I was so proud of you! We weren't the envy of all women, but you were mine. Petite, cute and mine. We were a good match. True buddies.

But now I might as well start boarding up the windows. It's an empty house here. A breast foreclosure.

So don't be mad if one day you happen to come by and see that you've been upgraded and replaced! Hey, it's fair game.

For now, I'll leave the light on and hope that you come back. Pleassssseee come back!

Got Stories?

The Baby Knack will be opening up our proverbial doors to GUEST MAMAS!

If you have some fun, heartfelt, informative or plain goofy stories to share about motherhood, we want to hear from you!!

We're hoping to publish a bi-monthly featured GUEST MAMA.

We're also looking for a few Guest DADDYS!!

Stories don't have to be novels, so don't be shy!

If you'd like to participate, please send your story to: HindsWriteProds@gmail.com

Happy Writing!!