Wedgies = Weapons of Mass Destruction

UGH. Today. Let me start with where it all went wrong. Side note: Nikki, if you're reading this, HI! I can't reply to your comments and I feel bad about that! :)

The moment my alarm went off at 7:45 am (yes, my kids sleep in past 8:00... sleep training works, people).

I got up, got myself ready, and then went in to wake up my sleeping monster devil child daughter. At first, it was great - she got out of bed, happy to be starting her day. She was pumped and excited for school. But then I did a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad thing.

I made her put on pants. 
It started with a whine, "But mom, there's wedgies in my pants!!"

Fine. I did what any loving mother would do - I picked my kid's underwear out of her butt.

"THERE'S STILL WEDGIES!!! I HATE THESE PANTS!!! STUPID PANTS!!!" as she rips them off and throws them against the wall. 

Okay, okay - so I got her another pair of pants, and it was like the freakin' twilight zone as she started screaming AGAIN.

"THERE'S STILL WEDGIES!!! I HATE THESE PANTS!!! STUPID PANTS!!!"

I sighed, trying to keep my patience, and through gritted teeth in a not very nice voice, "It's not the pants, let's try a different pair of underwear, okay, sweetie?" In my mind I was thinking, Ohmyfreakinggosh I am going to kill someone. I wish I drank wine. Why are three-year-olds so damn crazy?!

We got her some new underwear and put her pants back on. Nope. Not happening. This time the screaming reached levels of epic proportions. Poor Callum was just sitting there watching everything go down, no doubt thinking, Women are psycho. Girls are psycho. I'm moving out as soon as I can wipe my own butt.

By this point, Elsie was lying on the floor of the bathroom, butt-naked, screaming something along the lines of "I JUST HATE WEDGIES, THEY ARE LITTLE MONSTERS IN MY UNDERWEAR MAKING MY BUTT ALL ITCHY. WEDGIES ARE SO DUMB, MY PANTS HAVE SO MANY WEDGIES! I DON'T WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL!!!"

I did what any mom would do at that point and stormed downstairs, got one of her Christmas presents, and threw it away (AKA the trunk of the car, not to be seen again until her birthday), all the while noting my every move in a very loud, "I just escaped from the psych ward" voice.

Let's just say that that certainly didn't help matters and, to put it nicely, s*** hit the fan and my kid went crazy. She proceeded to teepee the bathroom, throw all her clothes, and shriek like a banshee the whole time. That takes talent and dedication, you know.

Eventually everything got straightened out, my kid settled on a swimsuit for her day's wardrobe, and I decided two kids is more than enough.

Moral of the story: Wedgies ruin EVERYTHING.

Sometimes.

Sometimes... 

I get frustrated with that beautiful, squishy baby of mine. Whether it's when she's constantly whining, throwing her food all over my nice, clean outfit, or taking sips of milk only to spit them all over herself, I get frustrated. I tell her to "JUST STOP!" in a slightly louder than usual voice. I like to think I'm not the only mom who has done this, but sometimes... 

I wonder. I wonder if I AM the only one, because no one ever talks about this part of being a mother. They only talk about the lovey dovey things, the things that perfect moms do. Sometimes... 

I wish we could all be real. I wish that, instead of sharing how awesome we all are, we could share how human we all are. We could share that sometimes... 

We snap at other people. Not just our kids or our husbands, either. We all have bad days, we all have those times where we wish we could just hide under the covers all day while someone else took over our responsibilities. If we could all just cut the crap and be real with each other, we would know that sometimes...

(okay, 99% of the time) my house is an absolute disaster. There are laundry piles on the couch, toys strewn throughout the house, piles of dishes in the sink, cereal on the kitchen floor, and unmade beds. I'm not a dirty person, I promise. It's just that sometimes... 

I get overwhelmed. I go to work, I come home, I take care of Elsie and play with her, I wash and fold the laundry, I do a couple dishes, and then Mike gets home. The house looks like an absolute disaster when, in reality, I feel like I've accomplished so much. If I have, though, why is it so difficult for me to see the results of my hard work? Instead of seeing the piles of clean, folded laundry (that were once piles of dirty laundry), I see clutter. I see a mess. I see myself, failing as a wife and mother because the house isn't spotless and dinner isn't cooked and on a perfectly set table. I think that sometimes.... 

We are our own worst critics. I don't know how other people see me, but I like to think that maybe they don't judge me as harshly as I judge myself. How many of us have this problem? How many of us beat ourselves up day after day, thinking that we aren't _____________ enough? Probably a lot of us. Maybe even all of us.

Why I'm okay with being looked down on

Greetings, friends of the blogosphere.

Recently I stumbled across this article. I'm not going to lie to you and say that it didn't bother me. It did bother me - in fact, I may or may not have been cursing the author in my mind while I was reading it. I thought to myself, I'm going to write the most kick-a** response and shove it down this lady's throat and make her wish she'd never written that stupid POS article in the first place! I thought about things a little bit more, though, and realized how pointless that would be. I realized one very important thing, and that is this:

I am okay with being looked down on. 

I could turn this blog post into a list of all of my accomplishments in the effort to prove the author of that article wrong. I could show her that it is, indeed, possible to have traveled the world and been successful as a young woman with a husband and child(ren). There are countless examples that I could give of other young wives and mothers who are far more well-traveled and successful than myself. Bringing up examples, retorts, and arguments would not, however, change this woman's mind (or the mind of anyone else who may think like her).

You see, it all comes down to one thing, and that one thing is quite simple, really. It comes down to happiness. I am happy being a wife and mother at age 25. I am happy because every morning, I wake up next to my best friend in the entire world. Every morning I go into my little girl's room and my heart melts as she smiles at me and reaches for me. No amount of success in the corporate world, no exotic vacation, no amount of fame and fortune could ever make me happier than I am as a wife and mother. You know why? Because my family brings me joy. Being their rock brings me joy. Sure, an all-expenses-paid vacation around the world would be freaking. awesome. BUT. It would be lonely. You want to know where I would be if I was not married with a baby?

I would have a successful career, one in which I would do quite a bit of travelling and probably make a decent amount of money. I would have money to spend frivolously, because I would only be worried about myself.

I would be lonely. I would be sad. I might feel a little empty. 

But that's ME. I am different from you. And you. And you.

I think that the main thing that bothers me so much is that, as women, we seem to be so divided. We can't just appreciate the fact that every woman chooses to embrace her femininity and womanhood differently. ALL women are strong, whether they decide to travel the world and have a career or stay at home and raise their children. ALL women have purpose, whether they're the CEO of a fortune 500 company or they spend their days running after kids. This whole "war" between women has got to stop. It really makes me mad that we can't see the value in other people's choices (and that we feel that it's okay to judge people based on their decisions). 

We all have our own paths. Some of us get married and start our families in our 20's. Some of us wait until our 30's or 40's. Some of us choose not to have children. Some of us can't have children. Some of us don't want to get married. Some of us will never find the right person.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with any of those paths. Not one is better or worse than the other. They are just different. So let's stop judging one another, let's stop looking down on each other. Instead, let's try to support and love one another and find joy in the fact that each of us chooses to embrace our womanhood in different ways.

Elsie 5 Months

Hi Guys! 

So... this blog has been pretty neglected, but I guess that's what happens when you're a full-time mommy and grad student with a photography business on the side. Anyway... it's time for my monthly update on little miss Elsie. Yeah... sorry that almost all of my posts lately have been more for me than anyone else. I promise that if I can get a routine down, I will try to get into blogging a little more next semester.

Dear Elsie, 

At five months, you are still just a long, skinny thing. I'm not exactly sure how long you are or how much you weigh, but my guess would be that you're around 28 inches long and almost 14 lbs. You're wearing 3-6 month onesies and 0-3 month pants. You're getting close to moving into the 6 month onesies, but I get the feeling that it'll be a while till you fit 6 month pants.

I'm a little disappointed - I lost count of how many diapers you've gone through. I know, I know - I'm a failure of a mother.

You've now got TWO teeth! You're a bit of a grumpy pants when your teeth cut through, but can I blame you? No, not really - it seems like it totally sucks. You laugh at everything and are so, so alert. You talk constantly (just like mom), and it's so fun to have conversations with you.

You're a daddy's girl through and through, but you still have days where you just need your mom, and I'm totally okay with that. Your cuddles are rare, but when you give them, they instantly brighten my day and I feel like the luckiest person in the world.

We've tried solids a few times, but you don't really seem to be a fan. I think you just like secondhand ice cream and tacos WAY better than nasty mushed carrots or rice cereal. I can't blame you - I'm almost 25 and I still don't like carrots. They're icky.

Anyway, you're awesome and I love you lots. Keep on growing and learning, little monster!

Love, 

Mom

QUIT GROWING, DANGIT!

4 Month Stats: 

Length: 26 inches

Weight: 12 lbs 6.8 oz

Dear Elsie, 

You are such a smiley, happy little baby! I honestly don't know how I got so lucky. You've been rolling over from front to back for about three and a half weeks now, and you've started to try to army crawl. You know how to roll from your back to your tummy, but you have no desire whatsoever to do so. You love to blow spit bubbles, laugh your little belly laugh, and squeal at the top of your lungs. About a week ago, you discovered your little feet and grab onto them whenever you can. You've also discovered that you can manipulate mom and dad - way to go, smarty pants! 

You absolutely love music, and you sing. I know people think I'm crazy for saying that my 4-month-old baby can sing, but you can! You hum along when I play your favorite songs - I can't wait until you have words to put with your little hums. Dad is so excited for that, too, because he's convinced that you two are going to sing lots and lots of duets together. 

Other things you love: bath time, story time, and being outside. Oh, and bananas. But you don't get any more of those till you learn to like your veggies. 

We are working on teaching you German - so far I think you're doing great. I mean, you've already got all the growling and gagging sounds down... now you just need to combine those sounds with words and you're set! 

Anyway, you're pretty much the most amazing, most advanced baby ever. Obviously. 

As far as the ongoing diaper count is concerned, you have gone through 714, with another pack of 180 open and about halfway gone. You're in size 2's - your time in size 1's was short lived. I think you'll be in this size for a while, though. Oh, and you had your first massive blowout a few weeks ago. I mean, it was on the walls and everything. Pretty gross. 

So to sum it all up: you are smart, curious, lovely, funny, goofy, and perfect in every way. I don't think I could love you any more than I do if I tried. My heart is so full of love for you... it's the most amazing, phenomenal feeling knowing that you are mine. I am blessed to be your mama. I love you, Elsie Lyn. 

Love, 

Mom

Women (and Men?) of the Blogosphere, Let's Make a Difference

Hey there, everyone - long time no see! 

To say I've been busy with school and life would be the understatement of the century. That being said, I just want to tell you all a little something (please humor me and read my mini-rant). 

The young girls of today need to be empowered. They need to be taught that there is more to life than being sexy. They are not objects, dammit! They are smart, beautiful, curious, and strong. They have worth and EVERY SINGLE ONE of them is important and valuable. Where the hell do the media and corporations get off marketing sex to kids as young as 3 and 4 years old? HOW IS THAT OKAY?! 

Answer: it's NOT. It's not okay, and something needs to change. I don't know how to go about doing it, but I want to stand up and voice my opinions. I want to band together with other women across the country who feel the same way. I want to take those girls who don't have a positive role model in their lives and show them amazing they are. I want them to realize that they are more than a sexy outfit, more than an object, more than the size of their jeans or the color of their hair, and that any man worth their time would recognize that. Let's breed confidence and poise in the next generation of women!

So. I've thought about this list of things that I wanted to do before my 25th birthday. This is where #18 comes in. This cause is near and dear to my heart now that I have a daughter. I know that I can teach my daughter these things, by I want other girls to know how valuable they are, as well. There are plenty of young girls out there that don't have positive role models in their lives. They are shoved aside, left to wonder why. They turn to sex to feel wanted, desired, and important, and that's not okay. This is not some agenda to try and force young girls to dress modestly or remain sexually pure until marriage. That needs to be a personal choice. No, instead, this is my mission - to make young girls realize their worth. 

This is where I need your help. I don't know how or where to start. I don't know if this idea should grow into a non-profit organization, or become a sort of internet movement, with a youtube channel, short videos, an online store to raise money to eventually make professional videos, etc. etc. I need other women who care. Other women who want to make a difference. We need to band together and stand up for our beliefs. Any ideas or suggestions are welcome. 

Note: Although I am LDS, this will NOT be a faith-based organization. This is simply me, a mother of a daughter, trying to raise awareness of an issue about which I care very, very deeply.