Ain't Nobody Got Time For That

If you are looking for a title reference (and/or have been living in a black hole for the past two-ish years) please do yourself a favor and visit here.

For the rest of you, you know what I mean...and in general, it's my mantra these days.

In reviewing old blog posts it appears that I lost my mind (and time) somewhere between March and June of this year.

Right about the time that Weston turned one.  Yep.  Sounds about right.

Y'all.  This kid keeps me on my toes.  I don't think that any parent wants to admit that they have a difficult child, myself included, so I think I'll just stick with "spirited".  It's a thing, I swear.  Just Google "spirited child" and you will find an array of (almost laughable yet very poignant) opinions on the subject matter.  At the end of the day?  Raising one has proved to be my most challenging demand yet.

To be truthful, many days are filled with frustration, sometimes tears and almost always several deeeeeeeeeep breaths.  Even Logan partakes.  And while I've heard it all from "...it's just the age", "...he's a boy!" and my favorite, "...this too shall pass", when you live and breath stubbornness, disobedience, physical emotion, flailing tantrums and at times all out loss of control, it wears on you.  Big time.  I also wears on your marriage, your four-year old, your friendships, your ego, etc. etc. I am serious when I say that there are mornings that Weston wakes up pissed off at the world (which to him, is me) and doesn't quit until bedtime.  He is full of mischief and wants things done his way.  Period.  End of story.

Anyhow, Weston has certainly changed the way I parent, thus the post title.  I fully admit to doing the bare minimum to survive the day whilst still maintaining some aspect of responsible, intentional and loving parenting.  But for the most part, it's no frills these days.

For example:

I don't care what Logan wants to wear.  I have not craft-ed or etsy-d, instagram-ed or pinterest-ed anything in months. I don't obsess over a clean house.  I have exactly thirty minutes to prepare dinner and if it takes longer than that, we may just have cereal.  I don't care (or rather I don't do anything about it) if my car looks like a bomb went off.  Weston still takes a bottle at night because it's the only thing that guarantees he'll sleep.  I let Logan wear dress up clothes to the store.  I don't stress over too many snacks.  I let the laundry pile up.  I sleep until one of them yells for me in the morning.  I go to bed almost the minute both are tucked in.  I sometimes lock myself in the bathroom for a moment of privacy.  I eat lunch off of their plates.  I keep wine stock piled.

But perhaps most importantly? I have come to realize that this is what life looks like for us at the moment.  It's not glorious.  It's not ideal.  It's not always a walk in the park...er, except for when it actually is going for a walk in the park.  But for now, it's how I get by raising these two kiddos.

Chat with to you in a month?!

It's Not You, It's Me!

Well, hey OCTOBER!

My apologies for the very unintentional radio-silence these past few months.  

I took a blog-breather one day which quickly turned into a week and then into a month and now here we are, well into Fall!

Life is good.  Life is full.  Life is busy.  Logan and West are...in a nutshell...the most demanding and fulfilling job I have ever had.  That also never ends.  Our summer was packed with many adventures, trials and growth (both literally and emotionally) but all in all, we are in a great spot.

I plan to start blogging again (famous last words) and may try out a new platform which I will certainly keep you informed of.  I have missed this space and miss what little time I apparently used to have to write.  Where did that go, exactly?!

Anyhow, cheers from me to you and thanks for (still) reading!

#sportsinjury

I used to find the whole hash tag craze rather obnoxious, especially when used out of proper context...like the title of this post.

But then I decided it's kind of fun to have a platform that justifies the most random of statements.  Clearly, I'm late to the party:

#hilarious.

Back to the injury.  At Tuesday morning's boot camp (aka a 6am stroller strides class without the kids/stroller) I felt the burn in more ways than one.  After rolling my foot off the lip of the sidewalk during "ski jumps" my thighs and my ankle were on fire.  It was a total bozo move, really.

Check out the damage (or don't and avert your eyes...now.) :

Despite the pain, I have been able to look on the bright side of things.  For instance:

- Waiting at Urgent Care - without children - were some of the more relaxing two hours I've had in a while.

- My ankle is not broken.

- The swelling has reminded me that I do not wish to be pregnant again anytime soon.  Or ever.

On the first day of the ordeal, Logan offered great care by covering me up with a dishtowel (blanket) and placing a popsicle (ice pack) on my ankle while I attempted to nap.  Pretty sweet. 

Other than that, we have been enjoying summer and are taking lots of opportunities to play in the water, visit the museum and hang out on the porch well into the evening visiting with neighbors.

It's nuts that August is right around the corner and even nuttier that Logan will be 4 in two weeks!  We have a "Garden Party" planned to honor Logan's request of a Birthday Party with flowers.  If only Target had not already phased out ALL of their 'Garden and Patio' section and replaced it with 'Back to School'.  I completely missed the clearance love!  

Instead, I am stuck with a hodge podge of ideas ranging from planting flowers, serving dirt cake and incorporating a random wheel barrow.  

We shall see...

Daring Greatly

In reference to my last post (the drowning part, not the Crested Butte part), it's wonderfully convenient that I happen to be reading Brene Brown's book, Daring Greatly.

I know that I am way late to jump on the BB bandwagon.  After all, when I suggested this "great new author" to a friend she replied that she had seen her on Oprah a while back and has read several of her books.  Sounds about right.  Being behind on anything trending is pretty typical of my life these days.

Anyhow, Brene (see, we're on a first name basis now) talks a lot about perfection and the pressure we as women have with this very complicated ideal.  Before you chuckle and envision "perfection" as the need to wear make up all the time or to be a good "house wife" this is certainly not what I mean...I'm way past that.  Thank God.

This perfection is much more complex.  It's a layer of stickiness that I can most certainly feel but try my best to brush off.  And to be perfectly (ha, pun?) honest, it's weight carries quite the drowning sensation.  Here's what BB eloquently has to say about it from her research:

...But the real struggle for women - what amplifies shame regardless of the category - is that we're expected (and sometimes desire) to be perfect, yet we're not allowed to look as if we're working for it.

Powerful, right?

She goes on to share a Marilyn Frye's (no idea who she is - just trying to give some credit here) examples of this predicament that we face:

- Be perfect, but don't make a fuss about it and don't take time away from anything, like your family or your partner or your work, to achieve your perfection.  If you're really good, perfection should come easy.

- Don't upset anyone or hurt anyone's feelings, but say what's on your mind.

- Dial the sexuality way up (after the kids are down, the dog is walked and the house is clean) but dial it way down at the PTO meeting.  And geez, whatever you do, don't confuse the two - you know how everyone talks about those PTO sexpots.

- Just be yourself, but not if that means being shy or unsure.  There's nothing sexier than self confidence (especially if you're young and smoking' hot).

- Don't make people feel uncomfortable, but be honest.

- Don't get too emotional (hysterical), but don't be too detached (cold hearted bitch).

A few things to chew on, that's for sure.

Now before you think that I'm getting all feminist on you (which of course holds its contradictions and complications all of it's own) or that I'm dedicating my life to untangling this web, let me assure you I'm not.

Rather, just by simply reading these words, the weight feels...less. Her book has several "Duh!" moments for me as in, "Duh...it's no wonder I feel stressed".  Even if I already "understood" these things before.

One message that has really brought me to a manageable wade these days rather than an all out flail?

"...Don't let perfection be the enemy of good*.  The imperfect book that gets published is better than the perfect book that never leaves my computer.  The dinner party of Chinese take out food is better than the elegant dinner that I never host". 

Again, nothing earth shattering but lot's of head nods and "Yes, totally" 's.

And finally?  A few mantras that will be posted on our fridge (sorry Chris) to get me through the day as stated by Andrea Scher in Brown's book - (okay, it's official. I pretty much suck at copyright):

Perfection is the enemy of good. (*It took me a few times to understand the brilliance of this one).
Quick and dirty wins the race.
Good enough is really effing good.

So, that's it for now.  If you're in the market for a good read, I would highly suggest Daring Greatly.  That is, if you haven't already read it like the rest of the world.

Now off to tackle this:

Crested Butte

We had a great time celebrating America's Birthday in Crested Butte this past weekend equipped with gorgeous scenery, fun friends, a sweet rental house, s'mores, sparklers and laughter to boot.

With that said, don't let me fool you into thinking it's always that rosy around here.  After all, the original title of this post was 'Drowning':

...I decided to finally sit down and write this post just after I had cleaned our floors while the kids were eating lunch (contained and focused) when Weston decided to simultaneously dump his bowl of mac and cheese on the floor and throw his bottle across the room in order to alert me that he had finished.

It's constant scenarios like this that make me feel like I am struggling to keep afloat during the day.  The fact that I am posting right now and suppressing the drowning sensation is a huge feat, let me tell you.

I thought that selling our house and settling in to our new home would alleviate the feeling that I have been having for several months now.  But, alas, we are as "settled" as they come and I still can't shake it.  Realizing that demands in all shapes and forms are status quo rather than the exception has been a hard thing to wrap my head around.  And yes, I do think that there has been a shift in these feelings going from one child to two.  Which is not to say that having one child is not plenty demanding...

Weston has entered full blown toddlerhood and is living it with a vengeance.  He is very physical and gets in to ev-er-y-thing.  Two things that I did not experience with Logan.  Suddenly our house has become a war zone and it stresses me out to no end that it never feels put away or clean.  I finally understand that futile feeling of cleaning up one mess only to move on to the next that has just been made.  While "leaving it" is always an option, walking into (or out of) a house that is a disaster quite literally sends my cortisol levels into overdrive.  Logan, on the other hand, has her own agenda.  One that is not quite as physically demanding but is emotionally and critically thinking charged nearly every moment of the day.  And the two of them together?  Let's just say "STOP WESTONNNN!!" is a popular phrase screech at any given moment.

It seems as though the very things that make life rich - the playdates, catching up with friends, spending time with family, social gatherings, the classes, the parks, the trips- are the ones that make the days slip away leaving no time for the "have to's".  The laundry, the bills, the yard, the phone calls, the floors, the car maintenance, the dry cleaning, the cooking, the grocery shopping, the doctors appointments, the time with your spouse!!   

The weight of the waves feels heavy and just when I think I can see the lifeboat around the corner, something else is on the horizon making it impossible to ever feel "rescued".  And what would being "rescued" look like you may ask?  Good question.  Fully relaxed?  Without worry?  Without burden?  Without commitments?  That doesn't sound quite right either.  Wouldn't that eventually translate into boredom and the antithesis of a full, abundant life?  Plaguing thoughts seem to be my norm...

And then I decided to delete most of it and focus on the positive.

Because while the days are hard, exhausting and at times self depleting, they are also the ones that make times like these all the more sweet.

Hope you had a fantastic 4th!