Creating Me

Today's guest post is by Tara, my sister-in-law! Tara is a California mama to two little girls, a substitute teacher, and an artist. If you want to see some of her work be sure to check out her Etsy shop: geoBright. Her handmade jewelry is phenomenal.
xoxo,
Sarah
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Today I spent an hour painting with my daughters. It is part of an internal project I have going on to pay more attention to my oldest. I think she is a tender child that that feels love from me the most as I spend time with her – hey I guess this isn’t new and most kids are like this!

Putting aside all the wonderful things that I learned about my daughter and the great time I did have with her (she is really a terrifically polite little one) painting palm tree after palm tree with an exploding volcano in the background is not something I would choose to do on my own time.

But like I said... putting that aside, one thing that keeps me going is the idea that I am helping my children develop talents now so that they can do even more creatively-driven things with me later. Selfish? Maybe – but not at the core of it. I want my children to be happy and successful and CREATIVE.

Becoming the mother I am today was a truly difficult process for me. (maybe someday I can guest post again and have a chance to write a little more about some of those difficulties). But somewhere around the time that I started to merge the world of ME and the world of being a MOM, I came across this idea of creativity; and it hit home:

I love being creative. Creativity is central to who I am – as it is with every mother. As a young adult I loved drawing, writing poetry, playing the violin and ceramics. And now I love blogging (once in a while), photography and making jewelry.

And so I create every day, just like every mother. I created my own children (with a little help *wink**wink*). I create ways to sooth them and love them. I create when I play with them. I create when I make dinner. I create when I renovate my home and when I think of the future.

I had to grow and change and develop to become the mother I am now. And I know there is more growth and change ahead. But I get to keep creating. I will keep creating the person who is me and I get to keep creating my own future.

The specifics are a little superfluous. I create. That is me.

Finding a Hobby - My "Me time"

"The me behind the Mom" is a dumpster diver. Yep, you know that weird neighbor you see pulling things out of your other neighbors trash? That's me. I try to do it late at night when nobody can see me, but I feel a little less sneaky up here in Alaska where the sun never goes down!

About a year ago while looking at Pinterest I had a revelation "I want to build stuff!" My husband wasn't too sure when I told him I wanted to build furniture. To be fair, I haven't made furniture...yet. So I went on that I could make most of the decorations for our house, if only he would pretty please help me buy a miter saw. He knows a lot about tools, I don't, so I wanted his input. I think he was waiting to see if I would change my mind. I do that a lot, decide I want a hobby for about a week then change my mind. It keeps life interesting!

When I kept showing him all the cool things I was going to make, and started pulling stuff out of my neighbors trash cans and promising I could make it something awesome for our home if I just had a few specific tools, he went to Lowe's. He picked out a Miter Saw as my Anniversary gift. I don't care what anyone else says, that's Romance right there!

Isn't it pretty!?

 Fast forward a bit and now quite a few of the things in our house are handmade, or at least given a little love to make them pretty again. And you know what? It's awesome. I get a huge confidence boost when people compliment something in our home and I can say "I made that".  So far I stick to simple things: frames, signs, I'm still learning. But since my crappy Bookshelf met a fatal collision with my six year old, I want to make one of those next. One that can withstand children. Lol.

Most of my projects take me much longer than it would take someone without children. Projects that claim "It only takes a couple of hours" usually take me at least a week, sometimes a month. My kids don't nap anymore, and the weather is nice outside so most of my time is spent at the park, planting flowers, going on walks. But in those rare moments when the kids are sleeping and my husband is busy, I'm in the garage. It gives me time to do something I enjoy, forget about the dirty dishes and take time for myself.

A huge majority of my projects have something to do with the kids, framing their pictures, or this super easy planter box we made to so we could grow some wheat grass at home.

Wheat grass is so fun to grow with kids, this was just 4 days growth! it grows fast enough that they don't lose interest. My children have VERY short attention spans.

I will admit that plenty, and I mean plenty of my projects end up wrong, or even forgotten about and returned to the trash (while secretly hoping my neighbor doesn't recognize that this item used to be in THEIR trash). I really enjoy having a hobby that I can be proud of and that builds my self esteem, even if I do have to ask for my husbands help a lot of the time. :) He is very handy. I'm hoping one day our girls will be handy too, I'm trying to get them started early.

The girls building at Lowe's "Build & Grow" program. They loved it, I even bought them little hammers so they can build at home. Yes, I'm crazy, I gave my children real hammers! Even the two year old.

Being a Mom is definitely my number one endeavor, and that shapes who I am in more ways than I can imagine. But that one part of me "The Me behind the Mom" is a DIY-er. My husband may cringe at the words "Oh my gosh, did you see what our neighbors threw out!?" But hey, I secretly think he's enjoying it too. Or, at least enjoying the fact that he's gaining some pretty awesome tools for the garage. :)

The Pirate-Princess-Ninja… behind this Mom

I know the title of my post might make you wonder if I am suffering from some sort of multi-personality disorder. The truth is, I have a vivid imagination, enjoy indulging in my children’s whimsical fantasies, and ultimately, like any new species (a.k.a. “newbie” Mom) desperately trying to survive, have now adapted to my somewhat new matriarchal role.

Becoming a mom has allowed me to put on many different “hats”. Some days, (per the request of my daughter) I am a princess having picnics and tea parties, other days I am cleaning my what appears-to-have-been-hit-by-a-hurricane house in super speed like a flippin’ ninja, and some days I’m just my nerdy old self, laughing at my own jokes way harder than I should be.

Then there are weeks like this one, when my BBH (Beach Babe Husband) asked my three-year old daughter, (Mini-me) if she wants to be a pirate or a princess. She boldly declared she wants to be a pirate…I wonder where she gets these crazy ideas? Oh wait…

I guess I like pirates, too.

Evidently, I'm a weird mom and I will embarrass my kids.

 I know in the years to come, my little girls (like me), will want to become many different things.  And I think that’s fabulous. That’s what life is about- to dream, to succeed, to sometimes fall, to grow from it all and then, to repeat. The most important thing is that they have the desire to grow and to develop into the best person they can be.

When I was a little girl, I remember always wanting to be very successful in whatever vocation I chose. While other little girls were playing “house” and being the “mom”, I was pretending to be a teacher or Miss America or sometimes even a doctor who just found a cure for cancer (true story). For many years I equated a successful life with those who were successful in their profession…outside of the home. I never thought too much about the idea of being a stay-at-home mom and honestly, I couldn't even imagine not “using” the education I had worked so hard to attain and to ever settle for a “less-than-desirable-or glamorous” job.  And this is where the school of life taught me a lesson or two.

Up until well into my mid-twenties, the life that I had planned for myself was going pretty well. I had graduated from college, married BBH, and was an ambitious, working professional. Then some unexpected difficulties came along. One of these trials was not being able to have children when I expected to have them. I immediately realized that just because we want something bad enough, doesn't mean it happens when we desire or think it should happen.  It was the first time I wasn't able to achieve something I had set out to have. I had no control over the situation and believe me, lack of control is not something I deal well with…or a least dealt well with.

It was during these difficult and sometimes even foggy years, I lost focus and had a hard time understanding who I was and what I really wanted out of life. Paradoxically enough, it was also the time I learned the most about myself. I learned the importance of growing and blooming where ever one is planted, no matter what the circumstances. I learned that when we focus on ourselves and our problems, we can become more self-absorbed and our problems can become magnified…but that focusing on others and helping them, brings true joy. Ultimately, I learned that success comes in many different ways.

The first time I became a mom and the nurse placed our darling Mini-me in my arms, I had a very different perspective of what success truly was. Becoming a mom and then eventually being able to stay at home with my girls helped me see things in a different light. I realized that motherhood adds a new dimension to who I am. It doesn't take away from my dreams and goals, it further illuminates them. It doesn't mean I gave up on my profession or my ambitions, it means I yearn to be an even better person with stronger ambitions and continuously desire to use my profession to enhance my children’s lives and our home. It doesn't mean I am no longer the person I was before motherhood, it means I crave for opportunities to enrich my life in ways that will help me develop into the person I want to be for myself and for my children.

And while I don’t receive the worldly accolades or compliments that I thoroughly enjoyed receiving in my former life, my rewards come in the tender moments when my mind slows down, and I can enjoy the simple and yet, in-depth moments that motherhood has to offer. 

Every night when I rock My-girl at bedtime and breathe in her sweet smelling, freshly washed hair or when Mini-me snuggles next to me, holds my hands, and leans her head against my shoulder, I receive the best rewards I could ever know. 

And someday, when the years have come and gone, I will look back at my life and remember the precious and forever-etched-in-my-mind memories of the giggles echoing through our home, their sweet voices saying “One more time, mommy!” as I swing them through the air, and the walls plastered with their smudged fingerprints. 

And for this mommy, those sweet memories are worth a thousand times more than any framed university degree or any professional award I will ever receive.  

Me, My-girl and Mini-me

The “Me” behind the Mom. For me there is no difference….

My name is Rebecca Torres. I will be filling in for Bianca for a few weeks.

I am honored to have been asked to be apart of this blog…..even if it’s just for a little while.

I’ve milled over this subject for over a week now. Trying to figure out which angle to approach it as if entering into a battle, which is very much how I approach motherhood …some days. Most days however, it is spent just how I imagined it when I was playing house as a small child. I spend my days playing, snuggling, teaching, correcting, smooching, frequently whispering “I wuv you” to each of the three kids, not to mention changing diapers, potty training, cleaning the house, and doing the laundry. On the days of battle I find myself yelling, repeating myself over and over, and often crying….nobody told me those days would happen!

I can remember dreaming about becoming a mother even as a small child. I LOVED to play house and I was always the Mommy. As I got older I had other dreams of becoming a vet, a pediatrician and even a teacher, but even as I pursued a college education to become an elementary education teacher it didn’t fulfill me as I knew my dream of becoming a mother would. I dropped out of college after my first semester. At first I was disappointed in myself, but I wasn’t sure what to do with my life as far as education goes and I felt it a waste of time and money for me to pursue something I wasn’t passionate about. So I worked for two years, served a mission for my church, and worked some more…

I spent a lot of time working, babysitting, developing new skills and hobbies and trying to “find me”. In the pursuit of “finding me” I also dated…..a lot. I always had this running list of the “perfect” man and these poor guys just never measured up. I guess every girl has their own list, but mine had these qualities:

1. Loves God
2. Loves his family
3. Wanted to be a Dad
4. Ambitious
5. Smart
6. Motivated
7. Always improving himself
8. Good looking

Bonus: Spoke a foreign language ; )

I don’t think that’s asking too much…..do you? :P

Little did I know that with each guy I dated I got closer and closer to the “perfect” guy for me. On July 7, 2008 I decided to take a chance and signed up on www.ldsplanet.com. I had dated my fair share of guys in my single adult group in "small town", Kentucky and well, lets just say that the “pickins” were slim. The same day that I signed up, I sent “jtorres” from Orlando, FL (he's originally from Madrid, Spain) a simple message and much to my surprise he responded. Long story short…..we met in person at the end of August, engaged in September, in January 2009 I moved to Florida and on January 31^st, 2009 I married Jonathan Alejandro Torres, my Spanish Knight in Shining Armor (well, he did go to UCF anyways! lol).

Since then, life has been a whirlwind. In April of 2009 we became pregnant. In June my husband had to rush me to the emergency room. We thought we were losing our baby. After an ultrasound, the doctor came in to inform us that we were having twins. Yes, you read that correctly. Twins.  Their heart beats were strong and nothing was wrong with the pregnancy. When we called to tell my parents, my dad jokingly said, “They just wanted you to know they were there.”
The rest of the pregnancy went relatively smooth and I delivered Joaquin and Anna via c-section at 38 ½ weeks after enduring 22+ hrs of labor.





34 wks with the twins. I got SO big

after this that I stopped taking pictures! :P

I must say that nothing else I’ve accomplished in life could ever compare to that moment of holding both of my babies in my arms and becoming a mother for the first time. There is nothing greater in this life than to be a mother. I may not have a college education, but that day I gained my M.O.M and no one can take that away from me.

Holding both of my babies after 22 hours of labor with contractions 5 minutes apart

and no progress that ended up as a C-section. I would do it all over again.

I loved being a Mom so much. I cried a lot their first year of life. Mostly from pure exhaustion. Mostly when they were both crying at the same time and nothing I did would console them other than holding them……at the same time. I had dreamt of motherhood for so much of my life, but never had I imagined that God would bless me with arms as full as my heart.

Best feeling ever......I miss this.

When the twins were just 10 months old I became pregnant again. It wasn’t a surprise, but we didn’t think we’d get pregnant so soon. We were blessed with a little girl, Mia.

So grateful for this sweet little one.

When she was born the twins were only 19 ½ months old. It was all so overwhelming. I had no idea how in the world I was going to balance it all. I did a lot of praying…..and still do….especially now that we are expecting our fourth. :D

When I was growing up I got to see my sisters all becoming mothers. I had my ideas of how things were going to be for me as a mom. I judged my sisters a lot. I thought some of the things they did should have been done differently. Through the past three years I have found myself eating a lot of my own words. Nothing in this life will ever be perfect. Mediocre days are okay….and sometimes a blessing.  The laundry isn’t always going to be done, the dishes can sit in the sink, and the crumbs can stay where they are. Children really do grow up fast. Husbands really do need to be loved and us Moms really do need to take care of ourselves so that we can take care of everyone else.

So now, when I look in the mirror trying to figure out who that woman is staring back at me with those dark circles, saggy skin, lack luster hair, and bad wardrobe……I am reminded that that woman has everything my 18 year old self dreamt about.

Me. The Mom. To me there is no difference. 

These are The MOMents

***First a special Thank-you Shout-out to Sarah for saving the day and switching with me yesterday when I couldn't find my laptop charger... oh the joys of moving. She rocks- please make sure you check out her excellent post here if you missed it. ***

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“It must be so nice getting out of the house every day.”

It is.

Except for when my toddler wakes up early enough to see me go.  And he calls out for me screaming, clinging to my legs begging for me to pick him up.  Sometimes I squeeze out the door, trying to justify myself saying  “bye bye” and “I love you” as many times as physically possible.   Then I try not to let myself get emotionally entangled in the resounding notes of his little voice screaming through the door as I walk to the car.  I tell myself he will be ok.  He will stop crying in just a few moments.  Daddy will pull out some graham crackers or turn on Elmo and suddenly everything will be right with the world.  

Mommy who? Let’s watch Yo Gabba Gabba! 

But other times I give-in, and I pick him up.  Then his grip is so tight as he whimpers into my shoulder.  I pat his back and coo “It’s OK’s” and “It’s alright’s” in his bed-head hair until his breath becomes even and his body relaxes against mine.  And then I realize what a disservice I’ve done to both of us with this stolen moment as I push the clock to its breaking point before I have to put him down so I can go; and his cries start all over again. 

Then my heart is nearly broken.

My mind is racing with the dishes in the sink, the laundry on the floor, the furniture I’m dying to rearrange, the many half-done (or not done) projects I have planned, the lunch I forgot to pack, and that little tear-stained face calling for his mommy.  Calling for me.

When I get to work, I’m once again filled with guilt, for a variety of different reasons.  I’m on time, often early, but many of my coworkers have gotten there before me.  I’m rushing to get to my room so I can set-up for the day, figure out and polish my agenda, attend before school conferences, and answer parent e-mails.  I’m not as prepared as I want to be.  And that giant stack of papers I brought home the night before thinking I’d have plenty of time to grade?  Back onto my desk they go… still ungraded.  Maybe I can squeeze a few in before first period? DING!  The bell.  Ugh.

My lunch and planning hours are filled with tutoring, running to the office to turn in yearbook money, lesson planning, answering more e-mails, and… you guessed it… more grading.  Sometimes I get a chance to start my lunch- sometimes not.  My 5^th period got pretty used to listening to me lecture with a fork in one hand. 

By the time the day is over I sit like a zombie at my desk.  Should I answer more e-mails?  Should I set-up my lab for tomorrow?  Oh and the grading…. I can totally do that at home.  Right? Right.  I can sit on the couch and watch TV and whip those grades out like nothing! Way preferable to sitting here.  Yup. That’s definitely what I should do. 

So I drive home.  I roll down my windows.  I turn-up my music.  I make every attempt to look super cool and take a few minutes to not be anyone but an embarrassingly enthusiastic sing-along commuter. (And just so you really get the picture, I’m not talking about the kind of sing-along commuter that is adorably cute listening to Celine Dion and belting the high notes… I’m ashamed to say my playlist is filled with various classics orchestrated by the very talented Snoop Dog and Justin Bieber.  I’m pretty gangster like that. Until we hit a stop light. Then I assess my fellow commuters before quickly making the decision to either roll up my windows and turn down the volume so I can act like a normal civilized human being; or I go ahead and try to pull off the “yes I’m a skinny white girl in glasses listening to ‘rap’ that isn't even really credible with people who actually listen to rap” look as I really wish I owned a pair of prescription sunglasses.)  

 I let myself forget the smattering of sticky-notes all over my desk.  I force myself to forget the angry parents, calling me onto the carpet for their children’s shortcomings.  I try and forget the angry teens- cussing me out and throwing desks because all of their pubescent problems suddenly have my face.  I’m hurt, I’m angry, I’m tired.  I don’t understand why I can’t just teach.  Why don’t they want to listen to me?  Why don’t they care even half as much as I do?  Why do I care so much? But I knew what to expect going into education- especially middle school; and this is what I signed up for.  This is what pays my bills, and ensures my family has food and clothes and all those other wonderful necessities- and strangely enough, this is what I enjoy doing.   So I decide to forgive them.  And I go home to my family.

Often times I feel like a mechanical woman.  Get up, go to work, come home, go to sleep, repeat.  I hear my alarm go off in the morning and sometimes I literally find myself saying out loud “Are you serious?!”.   I feel like I’m trapped in some kind of time-warp.  Some cruel real-life version of Groundhog Day.   I start thinking to myself- “Wasn’t I just here?  Didn’t I just drag myself out of bed a few minutes ago?  Apparently not.  I guess that was yesterday… here we go again…”

Being a parent is probably the most rewarding thing I have ever accomplished.  It’s a wonderful, warm, glowing feeling.  You are someone’s moon, sun, and stars.  With Graham, I didn’t think it was possible for my heart to swell anymore.  I really worried that when the new baby came I wouldn’t  be able to give him the same sort of love and affection I felt for my first son.  But now that Xander is here, I understand that love multiplies; it doesn't divide.  I honestly feel like my cup is overflowing with tenderness and adoration for these little men.

But with the blessings come trials.  To know the sweet we have to know the bitter- and with the sweetest of callings come the most testing of difficulties. 

Teaching , like motherhood, is a job of service.  Between the two of them- the biggest amount of “me time” is generally spent in a pity party.  It’s hard.  Really hard.  Sometimes cry-myself-to-sleep-before-I–do-it-all-over-again hard.  But what brings me out of those pity parties every time is realizing it’s worth it.  It’s so incredibly worth it.

I don’t regret a moment of motherhood.  I don’t regret getting married young and having my children “early” and “close together”.  I feel like it worked out so perfectly. 

Of course I have moments of doubt.  Of course sometimes I feel weak and I sit on the floor of my shower looking at my chipped toenail polish and droopy stretch-marked belly.  Sometimes I have that same "what the heck is happening" feeling I get with my alarm clock, but on a much bigger scale. 

Wasn't I just 18?  Didn't I just graduate high school? Don’t I still go to dances and sleepovers and wonder about who I’ll marry and how many children we’ll have?  Someone somewhere must have messed-up right?  The time-control person must have accidentally set their coffee mug on my life’s “fast-forward” button and they just haven’t noticed it yet.  Any moment they will see the blinking light and realize what happened.  Then they’ll hit “rewind” and everything can carry on at a “normal” speed. 

I think it’s important for us to remember that being “worth it” does not make it any easier.  There are moments, days, weeks, where I literally think I am going to lose my mind.  Thankfully I have an AMAZINGLY SUPPORTIVE ( I cannot emphasize this enough) husband.  I totally don’t deserve how good he is to us.  He brings me from the edge more often than not.  But he’s got a pretty full plate too- and he’s not always able to completely pick up my slack.  On nights when he has class- it doesn't matter how long or hard my day at work was.  It’s my turn to take over.  And as any parent knows, two-year-olds don’t care if you have a headache; they want to color!  They don’t understand that your feet hurt- they want to dance!  So we color, and we dance, and then the mercy of bedtime falls upon our house.

Like my parenting friends- “Me Time” takes a back-burner to all sorts of other things.  I sneak it in when I can and I savor those moments.  We probably watch a little (…a lot) too much TV at our house.  We probably eat on the sofa instead of sitting up to the table a little too often.  (Ok- we never sit at the table.) We probably don’t go outside (…what is this bright light you speak of?) and play at the park or go swimming or do all the things “good” parents are “supposed” to do.  But we get through each day bit by bit- and we’re happy.  We have tickle fights, eat ice cream when we want, and yes… watch “uno mas” episode of whatever TV show we’re plowing through on Netflix or Hulu or whatever. 

I let the baby cry for just a few more moments while I count to ten and take a breath.  I stay up a little later than I “should” to chat with friends on facebook or pin some links on pinterest.  I eat the last cookie and I get the last scoop of ice cream.  I stay in the shower much longer than necessary; and I write ridiculously long blog posts to get everything out of my head. 

Being a teacher is tough.  People always say how lucky I am to have weekends, holidays, and summers off.  And they’re right.  But I feel like I deserve it.  I earned it.  I'm sacrificing being with my own children so I can teach other people's.  I miss smiles and giggles, first words and first steps.  I miss so much- why should I miss any more?  You can't win.  You can't please everyone.  

I've gotten off-colored comments from people at work when I talk about being a mom, and from other moms when I talk about work.  It seems like everyone thinks you "should" be something different.  Something other than what you are.  It's upsetting... but in the end I know it doesn't matter.  Those people are a footnote in my life, and nothing in my children's lives.  And while I am probably nothing to the people who are so quick to criticize, I am everything to my children. So that's where I'm going to put my effort. When I’m not at work, I’m a full-time mom.  And you don’t get any time-off for that.  You can’t call-in sick, even for unpaid time off.  And honestly… I’d never really want to.

These truly are the moments.  And I cherish. every. one. 

Even when I complain.  

Getting Hot in the Kitchen

I know I am suppose to post on Wednesdays, but due to some technical difficulties Jess and I are switching our days this week!

Believe it or not, I was the one that came up with the theme this week.

Gulp.

And I still don’t know exactly what to write. The topic (Me Behind the Mom) is something I have been pondering for years.

See, the thing is, I got married young. I had kids young. Many have implied, or flat out said, that by doing so I never “found” myself.

In some ways, they are right. But as Jenny wrote earlier this week, by having kids I became me. I too believe I was meant to be a Mama. And even though I constantly have circles under my eyes and split ends from a newborn who uses my hair as his own personal Lovey, at the end of the day I wouldn’t change my role of being a stay-at-home mom...

my first born, who made me a "teen mom" because he came a month early
thanks for that merit badge.

But let’s be real. Motherhood can be boring, tedious, redundant, and hard.

About a year ago I moved to Texas. It was a big move for our little family, and I dreaded those first few months with the standard, “so what do you like to do?” type questions. Umm, what do I like to do, or what do I do? Because I spend a whole lot of time cleaning dishes, wiping butts, and breaking up fights, and the things I like to do are often forgotten about.

I take the question of “what do you like to do” kind of personally. I shouldn’t, but I see it as “what are you good at?” Well, dang, I am good at changing diapers (cloth diapers to boot!) and I can clean a toilet like no one’s biznass. But who wants to know that?

I used to be good at playing the flute and piano (got burnt out and quit), journalism (former major), and…well, geez, see mom brain strikes again and I can’t even think of some of my former hobbies/habits/talents.

And this is where it gets tricky. My inner me (which is not a very nice little person) starts saying things like, “well, who the H-E-doublehockeysticks are you? You aren’t talented, attractive, or interesting!”

Insert downward spiral.

Let's regroup...

Who am I really?

I am a Mom. But am I only a mom? Some days, yes, I am only a mom. In case you didn’t know, it’s pretty dang time consuming. I am my kids’ world. I’m not a perfect Mama, but we do the best we can (with a little help each day from Pixar) and I know I’m not screwing them up too, too badly.

But I want to be more than a mom. I want to be me—the woman who makes pretty things, cooks exciting meals, feels smart again (motherhood dulls some of my senses while heightening others), and has an identity outside of my children’s rock star view of me.

But how do I get there? I’m a little busy holding the 12 week old, wrestling the disobedient 2 year old, and trying to teach the 4 year old his ABCs. Not to mention my health is a mess. You know, not so little things.

don't let the momentary look of "angel" fool you. 

However, I can’t neglect me any longer. But I don’t have money (or time) for weekly pedicures, shoe shopping, and trips to Barnes and Noble (ahh the smell of books and coffee!).

With (what started out as gentle and turned to firm) nudging from Brandon, my husband, I have really tried to figure out what I like to do while still being realistic.

Recently (like five days ago recently) I figured something out:  I like to cook. I like to study nutrition. I like creating new flavors and seeing my kids try my concoctions. I love to entertain. The inner voice still gives me crap when my recipes flop, and many a nights I sit at the dinner table in tears with apologies falling from my mouth. But when I do succeed in the kitchen I am happy and my self-esteem soars (at least briefly. Still working on conquering that whole negative inner voice thing).

As you all know, since having our newest edition I was diagnosed again with thyroid cancer. Life is what you would call hectic. Meals (if we even eat at home!) go like this:  open freezer, stand on tip toes (I’m only five feet tall), remove a box, read back of box, turn on oven, put food in oven, set timer, listen for timer, remove food, eat with baby attached to the boob if no one is bleeding or screaming.

That line up has fit our needs for three months. Some days I kicked myself for not trying harder to be nutritious, but something had to give for a few weeks. Slowly, I am now regaining my strength and, by george, if I have to put Aaron in my Ergo and give him a bottle to get dinner fixed I’m going to do it. Why? Because I really like to cook. Other things can now “give” (like cloth diapers) and I can take the little time I have to make a meal plan, go grocery shopping (kid free, please? Pretty please?), and cook...oh and, Brandon, before you get too excited about my new revelation, I’m not doing the dishes. I gotta draw the line in the sand somewhere.

Cooking. It’s my revelation. It’s my focus outside of mommy-hood (which, ironically coincides with taking came of my family!).

What’s yours?

The Me and The Mom

Song lyrics make it sound so easy. Lucy Van Pelt can't love anybody but her. Whitney Houston said that learning to love oneself is the greatest love of all. I have wondered, more than once, what the secret is. I have certainly tried different tactics. I've focused on the positives. I've tried to let go of the imperfections. I've sung those songs until my voice went out. But, for some reason, being okay with being me? Well, it hasn't been easy.

When we were given the assignment to write this week on the "me behind the mom", I considered blowing it off. I could claim hundreds of excuses why I needed to skip and have someone else blog for me; the house is a mess, baby hasn't slept, haven't showered in three days, I've really been neglecting my Pinterest boards, there's a dead worm on the sidewalk that I should burry. Then I considered just keeping it "light", making a joke about my "behind" and how it's a good six inches lower than it used to be (thanks baby number four). But then I remembered some stupid analogy I heard once about how you can't strengthen muscles you never work, blah, blah, blah. Okay, it wasn't stupid, but when it makes me want to break out of my comfort zone it's not getting any immediate love from me.

Ever since I was little, I've been an awkward little thing. Picture that kid at school with glasses who reads books about unicorns and wears high water pants and talks in a squeaky voice. Got the image? Okay, good. Because that would be the cool kid that I wished I was. I was so weird, I couldn't even be a normal dork. I didn't just read about unicorns, I waged a campaign to convince my classmates that they were real and I had seen them (I still think that watching Tom Cruise's "Legend" counts as a sighting.) and, oh by the way, they can communicate with me. By the time I hit fourth grade things were bad enough that my parents put me into a private school. Yes, it was that bad.

When I first went to my new school I thought maybe I could be cooler. Maybe I could just not mention the unicorns, at least until my circle of friends was well established. I could do this. I could be cool. That idea lasted about eighty-five seconds, or until recess.

I repeated these efforts the first week of every single school year for the remainder of my primary education career. It yielded the same results every single time.

My next would-be attempts at self-transformation came when I went to college. After being with the same small group of people since the fifth grade, I'd finally be moving to a place where no one knew me. I could retrain myself. I could be a whole new me. Here's the thing about me...me is always there. I can't hide from her. She just shows up, invited or not. She's a little obnoxious like that.

After I got married, my husband and I, along with child number 1, moved to Richmond, VA. I tried again to be a newer, cooler, less dweeby sort of person. And I'll be darned if me didn't show up and spoil it all AGAIN. Seriously, me cannot take a hint.

After almost ten years in Richmond, we moved to Florida. This was exactly the opportunity that I needed to finally be the cool girl. I mean, no one knew me...NO ONE. And I finally figured out the secret. I just would not talk at all. Smile and speak when spoken to. No stories. No jokes. BAM, overnight success. But, once again, that inner dork just bubbled right to the surface. My personality is inevitable, like death and taxes. There really is no way to escape it.

So if you can't run from yourself. If you can't be someone that you aren't (No, this doesn't mean I'm giving up on being a mermaid, it's totally attainable. You'll see.), then what do you do? And this is why I didn't want to write this post. Because I haven't come to a conclusion yet. I don't have an answer. Being a writer, I like to have answers. I like to know what's going to happen before I write a story. But I'm probably only in the first chapter with this whole self-acceptance thing, which makes writing about it downright terrifying.

But hey, I took six kids to Sam's Club the other day. I can do hard things.

So here's where motherhood comes in. I've never really been cool or brave or strong or awesome...until I was a mother. And now I'm still none of those things, but all of those things. "Let me explain. No, there is too much, let me sum up" (sorry, I couldn't resist). Before I was a mother, I was way too chicken to ride a roller coaster. Now, after children, there is no way that I would get on a roller coaster, but it's okay now. I'm the mom. Moms can skip roller coasters and still be brave because HELLO!?! I TOOK SIX KIDS TO SAM'S CLUB! Do you see what motherhood did there? It let me be me and it let me be brave, even though I'm not brave. You think I'm crazy right? Watch, I'll do it again...

Before I was a mother I would tell really lame jokes and everyone would think I was lame. It works like that. Now, I still tell lame jokes, but my kids think they are hilarious. Seriously. They laugh. So I get to be funny even though I'm not funny. See how awesome that is?

So the thing is, the "me behind the mom" is still there. Being a mother just lets me be her and be okay with being her. I think that believing in unicorns, wearing pants that would make Steve Urkel proud, and singing Bonnie Raitt while all my classmates were singing Boyz 2 Men (That's probably wrong. I don't even know what they were listening to because I was listening to Bonnie Raitt), all made me a pretty dweeby person, but they make me a pretty awesome mom.

That's what motherhood does for you. It transforms you. It let's you be you, but better. It helps you recognize that it's okay to be you. Being you isn't a bad thing, as long as you're always trying to be the best you that you can be.

So the me behind the mom is a dork who loves to read fantasy novels and pick the marshmallows out of Lucky Charms cereal and make up random songs for absolutely everything. The me behind the mom is a world class chicken who has to take deep breaths when driving over large bodies of water because 'holy crap we might drive over the edge and get eaten by alligators'. She would gladly eat cookies for breakfast. She likes to listen to Raffi at Christmas time. And the mom behind the me? Well, she let's me get away with all of it and blame it on being a mom. It's a symbiotic relationship and it works. I can dig it.

The Story of Michelle

Hi, my name is Michelle.

I was born, raised, and stuck in Florida. I was a band geek in middle school and high school. I was also boy crazy. I always had a crush on some cutie I’d be convinced I would marry someday—which kind of explains why I seem to only have boys…

In 2007, I graduated high school, sent off a missionary/future husband (or so I thought), got my first job, my first car, and started college. To the predication of my missionary’s mission leader (not that he knew me specifically), I was engaged to someone else within 6 months (almost to the day).  This someone else happened to make a very bad first impression on my mother before we ever actually met him (he corrected the stake choir director during rehearsal). I was warned to never marry someone like him but the warnings went unheeded and on our first date my mom knew we’d end up getting married. Best choice of my life! (By the way turns out my mom and husband share the same birthday…different years of course).

Within a year of graduating high school and 3 weeks before my 19^th birthday I became Mrs. Alex Tweed, Marine Corps wife. Seven months later he deployed to Iraq for a year. Luckily for my nerves, it was a very boring tour. During that year I got a crash course in managing a house (small apartment), job, running a budget, and I also completed my Associates degree. To this day I am still taking that crash course!!

He came home in October of 2009. We got pregnant that December and then he deployed again in January 2010. This time it was a voluntary deployment to the Asia area (he was really close to having enough active duty time in to qualify for 100% G.I. Bill for going to school a.k.a. free college!). During that deployment I bought a house that we had looked at once before he left. When we first put in our offer it was a short sale. For some reason they never responded to our offer and just foreclosed on the house which was frustrating, but that turned out to be a HUGE blessing because I ended up getting it for dirt cheap (HUGE blessing!). So I packed up the apartment, unpacked the house, and had the kitchen renovated. Did I mention all the amazing help and support I had? So much!

Alex got home 3 weeks before I gave birth to our 7lb 14oz Parker at a local birth center (a.k.a. NO drugs). We loved him so much we decided to have another one 18 months later! This time labor was crazy fast! Contractions started at 5pm, got to the birth center at 9pm, and had a 10lb 7oz Henry! It was a sweet mercy that it was as fast as it was because this was again withOUT drugs. Now here I am again pregnant with yet another boy with what is going to be another 18 month age difference. This one was not planned but we are excited regardless!

Right now life feels even crazier than it did when my husband was deployed! He is currently working full time (doing a job he hates but pays the bills), going to school full time (…well taking the summer off but will start up again in the fall), just signed up for another 8 years serving in the Marine Corps Reserve, and serves as Scout Master and Young Men's  1^st Counselor at church. He works his tail off to provide for our family and serve the Lord. It puts a lot on me at home which is really hard a lot of the time but despite it being hard I know I am incredibly blessed.

So that’s where I am right now in life. I am a pretty laid back mom that is blessed enough to get to stay at home with my boys. I take them to the zoo and the indoor play place at the mall. They love to explore the backyard, gather bugs, sticks, and help the dogs hunt for lizards. I let them play in the sprinkler and get all wet and dirty because it makes them happy AND wears them out which is always a plus!! 

My boys are lovers of cheese sticks, apples, bananas, lollipops, crushed ice, ice cream, playing with balls, story time, singing time, bath time, and especially Daddy time!

I am a lover of cooking, eating (funny how those two always go together), grilling, sewing, bargain shopping, chocolate, Krispy Kreme donuts (my weakness), sitting on the couch and just chatting with girlfriends, sneaking in a little hulu, and I LOVE pinterest!!! I also love being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. It is something that is near and dear to my heart. I know that it has been a major part in getting me to where I am now.

My life is nothing but blessings. I have an eternal family. We are healthy. We are not rich but we have exactly what we need. We don’t have family nearby anymore, but I have some of the best friends I could ever ask for!! I would love to leave this Florida weather behind but it would be sooo hard to leave all of the wonderful people.

I’ve loved all of the posts from the bloggers of To Each Their Own this week. It is wonderful to get to know so many moms that are all so different but the same. We come in all different shapes and sizes but we all strive to do the very best we can for the family and God we love so much!

Remember that when life feels hard, it’s nothing but blessings! Always find something to learn in the trial at hand. We are all given the specific trials that we have because Heavenly Father knows we can handle it. We also have to remember he will always be there for us. All we have to do is ask. (I hear myself telling my kids “Just use your words and ask!” You think Heavenly Father feels the same way??)

We’ve got this ladies!! 
We’ve got this!

All little about my Crazy Life

Where to begin? I've never been very good at introductions, I'm not sure what to say because I'm not a particularly interesting person. Some days the most exciting thing that happens to me is throwing rocks in the river with my daughters. It's a lot of fun, but not that exciting to read about. So, I'll just give you the basic details.

My name is Mandi, I'm originally from Utah and in 2006 I got married to the man of my dreams. He's in the Army and for the past 8 years I've been following him around trying to find the best out of everywhere we live. Some places are easier than others, at our last Duty station one of my very favorite things was simply the amazing array of Salsa they had at the local market, I love to cook with Salsa! Anyway, we got a bit off track there...

 My husband and I have been blessed with two sweet girls, Zoey was born June 2007 while Daddy was in Iraq. I moved back to Utah while he was away so the lucky girl is a Utahn just like Mom and Dad! Our second daughter Paige followed in May 2011, this time Daddy got to be there and she is our little Texan!

Being a Mommy is what I've always wanted. I'm lucky enough to be a stay at home mom, which most days is amazing and other days puts me on the verge of checking into a mental institution so I can get a chance at alone time. But really, my girls are my best friends. Wherever we move, whatever life throws at us, they are my one constant and I love that.

We're currently living in Alaska and exploring all it has to offer. We love the outdoors and we're excited to have the chance to live somewhere that we can go fishing in our backyard, camping 5 minutes away and see wildlife right outside the front door. Zoey wants to see Daddy fight a bear, I just hope to survive the extreme winters!

I'm happy to get a chance to share my perspectives on life and motherhood on "To Each Their Own" and hope that my posts will be enjoyable to readers each week.

Vulnerable and Loving it

One of the hardest things about writing an introductory blog entry is the pressure of feeling like it needs to be completely riveting and relatable. It’s like I can almost sense a swarm of index fingers slowly moving to a mouse to click off our blog and escape to a new virtual location. And to those of you who are about to do so, I say to you– Wait! Stay a little longer!

My name is Faye and I am a California-native married to my handsome and amazing Florida Beach Babe Hubby (BBH -for short) and we currently have made our home in the Sunshine state. BBH is like the cheese to my macaroni or the chocolate chip to my cookie. I seriously love this man and I have to say, macaroni would not be very good without the cheese and we all know everything tastes better with chocolate!

BBH and I married in the LDS Orlando Temple

We have been married for nine years and after several years of enduring and surviving infertility, we were finally blessed with our first daughter, Mini-me (now 3). A week before Mini-me turned one, we were doubly blessed (and our jaws literally dropped with surprise) to find out I was expecting once again with what my doctors called a miraculous “spontaneous pregnancy”. Nine months later, we welcomed our second beautiful munchkin, My-girl (now 18 months). Never did I think that after struggling to get pregnant for years, I could ever be blessed to be a mother of two children under two.

Here's a little more about me and my loves:

 1)      I love learning and teaching. I am a semi-retired high school Spanish teacher. (Sí, yo hablo español). There are times I miss it, though and find that I gravitate towards teaching whether I’m at church or at home. Currently I am a full-time, stay-at-home 30-something mama, teacher, and student to my two spunky, independent daughters.  They teach me more about myself than any classroom I've been in so far. 

2)     I enjoy long, romantic walks…to my fridge.  I love to cook. Baking and cooking are major stress relievers to me. And of course, so is eating. Which brings me to my next love…

3)      I love to run. Well, it’s really a love-hate relationship. I love the feeling I get AFTER a long, relaxing run and ultimately it makes me happy. And as we all know, exercise gives you endorphins-endorphins make people happy and happy people just don’t shoot their husbands…they just don’t. (Name that movie)!

BBH's and my silliness captured on camera

   4)     One of my favorite things to do is laugh.  I love laughing with my family about silly movie lines, at jokes, at crazy & random YouTube videos and "memes", while we play games together, while we cook, etc.. I find that laughing is very therapeutic no matter how you feel at that moment and it’s contagious to everyone around you.

   5)      I am a Mormon and love it. I also love learning about all types of religions and positive outlooks on life. When I was younger, I was a missionary for my church and enjoyed learning about different cultures and loved talking to people from all walks of life. No matter what one's background is, we can make a big difference by supporting one another in this world.

If I could sum up in one word my (limited) experience with Motherhood, it would be vulnerable. And yet, I never thought I could be so vulnerable and love it so much.  I can now relate to those who have said that becoming a parent is like deciding to have your heart live outside of your body for forever. For me, being a mom is sometimes like simultaneously feeling butterflies in my stomach, light headed, and feeling like I’m going to fall off a cliff at any moment. Or maybe I can blame those feelings on the lack of sleep or on the fact that I never fully recovered those lost brain cells while I was experiencing the infamous pregnancy brain? Who knows?! Being vulnerable as a mom has taught me humility and how to love truly and deeply. As C.S. Lewis said:  "To love at all is to be vulnerable" and how grateful I am to be able to love at all. 

Although each day I struggle and minute by minute I’m learning how to be a better mom, I try never to take it for granted. Coping with infertility and other trials have taught me to slow down a little more, enjoy as many moments of my daughters’ lives as possible, and to not sweat the small stuff (or even the big stuff…like the mountain of laundry I still need to conquer today).

Me, My-girl, Mini-me, BBH

I’m very excited to contribute to our To Each Their Own blog and to learn more from wonderful moms who hit the ground running each and every day with their little or big ones. I hope to share my thoughts and love for motherhood in a positive, uplifting way and to maybe, keep you laughing just long enough to side track you and your index fingers from clicking on your mouse button and escaping. Welcome and stay tuned for some laughs and tears and then some more laughs!