Middle School Compliments

Who knew middle schoolers could boost your confidence.

I really don’t have this working mom thing down at all….but apparently I am sexier than I remember.

Thank god for the little things.

I may have burnt every thing I have tried to cook for the last two weeks, my daughter and I may have a nasty cough that provided us a day home today, but dang it…I am bringing sexy back!!!

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Working mom woes

My hat is off to you my friends, my comrades, my partners in crime, those of us who will be perpetually tired and never reach the end of our list.

We make it look easy, even when every muscle is crying for sleep, engagement, relief. 

We work. At home, in jobs, both, neither, it doesn’t matter. 

We work. We, women, win.

Tomorrow is Wednesday.

Thank the universe. 

My hat is off to each of you…Making it work, as only you can. 

My ‘uterus’ is bigger than your ‘uterus’

*Trigger warning: language

Killer Mike’s restatement of a tired and used mantra that “a uterus doesn’t qualify you to be President of the United States” brings up a valid point. Hillary’s uterus makes her no more or less qualified to be President of the United States than any other candidates’ scrotums automatically qualifies them for the office of POTUS.

We, as woman, have got to stop being offended by vocabulary terms. If anything, we should be offend by a culture that prizes pricks as the “have all, end all” of sex organs and all things representative of STRENGTH!

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Quicksand 

Worse than a kick in the stomach, worse than even my own fears is watching loved ones flounder, hurt, and experience profound suffering.

To see the earth we trust, the lives we build trap us and then slowly swollow us whole is a betrayal like none other.

The women I love more than life, my sister and best friend, are experiencing life altering health problems.

They are invisible to the world and yet their hurt and illness is so real it threatens both of their lives. 

How can there be joy, when one you love is so deeply trenched in pain?  

How can I ease their suffering without taking it on as mine? 

How do I hold out hope as I watch it flicker from their eyes? 

How do you find the strength to fight another day? 

Your beauty is alluring.

Your strength is stunning.

Your battle may be the sexiest thing about you. 

Your fight is inspiring. 
Healing, hope, hurt, despair, each a state of mind. 
Your strength, Your inspiration, Pulls me from my quicksand of despair. 
Lend me your hand, your heart, your burden.

I don’t know how, but I promise 

I will not let your suffering be in vain.

Never give yourself a bikini wax OR 10 life lessons I have learned by 30

  1. There is never a comfortable way to answer your mom’s questions about stds.
  2. Nothing says “trashy” like camel toe.
  3. True love and true friendship are equally hard to find. 
  4. Someone will always be better, smarter, prettier, stronger, ballsier, (fill in the blank_______) than you. 
  5. Too much of a good thing will always be bad, (i.e. too much vit C = UTI.)
  6. Never wear white to a wedding, ever. 
  7. Never judge a book by its cover. (or Sarah Jessica Parker is gracious enough to look the other way when you poop pants.) 
  8. Never let your partner deliver your baby….the things they see….you will not live this down.
  9. Never give yourself a bikini wax … And if you must ….
  10. ALWAYS Make sure your partner turns off their Xbox live mic before helping you with the hot wax accident.

I didn’t have a choice.

Yesterday was my first day back to work. After having a baby 16 weeks ago today,I am one of the fortunate ones to just be going back now.

While working, I ran into a young teacher and mother who had recently substituted in my old position for an extended period. In a quick conversation I made the comment,“I don’t know how you did it!” 

“I didn’t have a choice.” She replied.

This statement stayed with me all day.

I had originally planned to be home for this 16 week period of time; with saved and generously donated paid time off, I would return to work in February, finish out the school year, and decide from there how to manage career, family, and bills.

As life, Lyme, hyper gravidarum would have it, I couldn’t do that and blew through my sick leave within 5 months of a debilitating pregnancy. I spent months building up strength and finally decided to make a push and try to go back to my classroom that fall. I made it 5 days (2 with 163 students) before collapsing physically and mentally under the load.

I didn’t chose to be sick, get bit by a tick or be unable to get out of bed. I did choose to become pregnant and often times I confused that choice with a misguided responsibility to “fulfill my duties” to my work and students. I continued teaching a course online for 9 weeks after going on full FMLA, even though I could barely function, had to have my husband read me the emails half the time, and was typically vomiting at the time I was supposed to be “with” the class and lecturing.

But I made a choice.

I felt like a failure. After months with out a pay check, we had learned to live on less. Like ALOT less. It felt really good. We had done this before, living in a cabin in the woods on a 1/2 time teachers salary.

After my daughter was born, I realized that I could live with being the most beat up house on our very nice street, for a few more years. I am cool with the rust on my car, as long as it will pass inspection and keep on driving. I am ok with juggling bills, hurting my credit, and relying on the goodness of family occasionally.

We can’t be too prideful. We can’t have the perfect car or image. I have done some major damage to our credit in juggling bills in the last 4 months…

…but that was a choice I made.

I make a choice to swollow my pride. I quit my full time teaching job to work as a substitute.

I choose to be the shittiest house on the street.

I choose as many mornings as I can swing with my little one.  Does that mean that the phone rings and people sometimes want money? It does. As it turns out, that job I could have gone back to was cut this week. It is affirming to see that had I chosen to go back, the universe would have simply reversed my course a little less gently.

This is not to dog working mothers.

We are all working mothers.

What I am asking each us to do is to stop belittling each other by making statements like “I wish I could do that.” Or “I just don’t have a choice.”

The only result produced by these types of statements is to further divide us as a group of women who are each  fighting the same battle, juggling what we can and cannot live  without, and wishing desperately for a maid, nanny and/or fairy god mother.

We each have a choice and those choices will define who we are as women, no doubt. However, Let’s choose to cheer each other on. If you are gonna go be that BAMF exec and show your little girl she can do anything! Do it! Own it! Rock it! I am taking a slightly different path. But I own it. This path is mine. I have been led here by my choices.

There are many things we each wish we could do, but we all have a choice.

Today I applaud your choice!

Versatile Blogger Award.

Mckinleysmilestones nominated me for the Versatile Blogger award.  I am really new to this blogging thing but I think it is a great way to share some awesome blogs with the people that follow me and share some love to some of my favorites!

So thank you Mckinleysmilestones and lifebeyondmommy for your nominations and please check out the blogs below.

 The Rules:

  1. Thank the person that nominated you and include link to their blog.
  2. Nominate at least 15 bloggers. When nominating bloggers–please keep in mind the quality of their writing, the uniqueness of their subject matter, and the level of love they display virtually.
  3. Link your nominees and let them know about their nomination.
  4. Share seven facts about yourself.

My facts:

  1. I woke up one morning (at 10 years of age) with a white streak in my hair, and it won’t dye, grow, or change 20 years later.
  2. I am a lush.  I love  art, music, life, good food, good wine.
    • Hell, I like bad art, music, food, and wine too, though I still prefer good life.
  3. I worked (in London) across the street from Orlando Bloom for a month.
  4. I read Little Women 17 times by the age of 12.
    • I was home-schooled until I was 12.
  5. I HATE to bake but LOVE to cook.
  6. The first time I danced, I was 20 years old….and it was a religious experience.
  7. I watch WAYYYYYYY to much TV.

My Nominations:

That Mom-Wife Life

LifebeyondMommy

Tiffanybeingfree

Bigbaddad

Mombum

Somersault. Headstand. Repeat

Bumpy when Bare.

Queen of Lyme

Lyme and CO

Wears 2 Jolly 2

Birth of a New Brain

Lyme Coordinator 56

Body Inflamed

Oh Bless Your Heart

Lyme Mom of 4 Kiddos