Making Time for Daughters

I don't even have a witty title for this one. This is going to be a stretch right now since Natalia is currently unloading the dishwasher (between fits of tears) because her attitude needs to be adjusted and manual labor is as good as anything else I could think of at the time. That, and let's be honest, I just hate unloading the dishwasher. I mean, seriously folks: It's one of many perks having children. Labor sharing.

Last week during bedtime Natalia disclosed to me that she feels like she and I "never" have time together. In my mommy mind I'm like "We spend tons of time together at home, getting things done and our weekly fun outing." After I got out of my own head I decided that what she really needed was some one on one time. Even though the house needed to be vacuumed, the laundry needed to be done and I needed my own quiet time; I decided that I would take a day for a mommy daughter date day. I'm so glad I did.

On a sobering note, our first stop of the day was to St. Lukes PICU to drop off some food to the family of Ally (Aly) Defur. Aly was a gorgeous 4 year old who was pinned in an auto accident and sadly, her little brain did not recover. The day we dropped off food was the day her family did one of the most difficult and noble things a parent could ever do: They decided to take her off life support and allow her to be an organ donor. I don't think most people really understand organ donation. It's not just a liver or a lung. It's connective tissue to repair worn out bodies in pain, eyes to help someone else see when you no longer need them, kidneys to gift years onto someone else's life, and a heart to a child who's parents were daily wrestling with the thought that this day may be their own child's last. It's such a great gift, and a hard decision to make. Aly's mom blogged while these events unfolded, hoping for a miracle, but seeing God's grace through it all. I highly recommend you check out her blog for Ally Defur. It definitely changed my perspective on priorities. 

After our meal drop off, we were on for our mommy/daughter date. First stop, Chik fil A of course. This was Natalia's pick and she even shared her waffle fries with me. Of course, a Chik fil A trip is not complete until we take a selfie and send it to Jeremy to make him jealous. After that we headed over to the Boise Art Museum with our sketch pads to sit on the floor together and draw, talk about perspective in art and laugh at all the boobies there are in the museum. There are a lot and boobies are funny.

We finished off our date with a little paddle boating. Now

those of you not from Boise are missing out. These cute little boats are really fun and make for some good conversations. I remember doing these when I was a kid, but usually I was stuck with my brother and we just fought the whole time.

Now the activities were fun, but the conversations were better. At Chik fil A I let it slide that I have Natalia's teeth in my top drawer. A post on facebook let me know that a lot of mothers keep their child dentition indefinitely. I also realized that I have a hoarding problem when it comes to teeth since I also have 2 of my own baby teeth in the drawer as well. She didn't miss a beat and asked "Why do you have my teeth if the Tooth Fairy takes them?" Busted. She actually let me stutter along for a good 2 minutes of explanation before she lets me know that she is well aware who takes her teeth. She's good. She's really good. We laughed so hard that people were staring. Then we walked out like a couple of divas with our matching over sized sunglasses. 

The paddle boats had the best conversations though. I just threw it out there that Vampires were Zombies with better skin. Both are undead cannibals. My little conspiracy theorist pondered that over and totally agreed with me. She then broke it to me that she wasn't really my child after all. You see, she is part of the triangle people and Jeremy and I are just her earthly parents. I tried to tell her that Jeremy and I were secretly triangle people, but she wasn't buying it. Then the conversation abruptly changed when we saw a dead goose floating next to us. Girly screaming ensued from both of us. Speaking of geese - those suckers are aggressive! We spent a lot of the time paddling hard core to get away from them once our left over waffle fry stash was spent. They love waffle fries, but then again who doesn't.

That night Natalia let me know it was the best day ever. I couldn't help but

think back to Aly and her own mother. Would I be grateful for the time we shared, or would something like that make me bitter? Could I find God's grace or would I blame Him for "robbing" me of my dreams? I don't know and I hope I am never held to that test. What I do know is that laundry is forever, but nine only last one year. What is Natalia going to remember more? A OCD clean organized house, or lunch with mom followed by sketches and paddle boats? From all the clutter that lies in the wake of Natalia, I'm thinking she doesn't really give a fig about the house. I know that she adores me even on nights when she has to unload the dishwasher. She has already stopped crying, moved onto Barbies in the playroom, but not before she flipped over the back of the couch to give me a kiss and tell me she loves me.  

Let's Hear it for The Mothers Who Give Up

These have already died

There are a few things that I just surrender to: I give in to the fact that when I plant something in my yard, there is a 50/50 chance on its survival; I surrender to the fact my dog will always eat poop, dirt, rocks and on occasion a car bumper (true story); I give it all up that I am raising Natalia without a manual and by the seat of my all loving pants paired with fancy heels for that pop of color every outfit needs.

Now, this doesn't mean that I idly sit by looking at certain aspects of life like those Willy Wonka pictures on Pinterest. No, I read the instructions before I plant the food/flowers; I follow my dog around outside with a can of pressurized dusting spray to scare him out of his pica habit; and I hit up my fellow mommy divas for advice on Natalia stuff, read a couple of books and sometimes just ask Natalia "Um, what am I supposed to do about this. Is this something I should worry about?" She usually tells me "No" which snaps me out of my mamma drama and back to reality where I think much more clearly. I mean, the girl kept telling me she "has no friends", crying, but every time I see her at a social event she is the center of some girly gaggle. She finally moved on to complaining about another drama. Oh, I did ask her teacher just to make sure this wasn't some Degrassi Junior High after school special thing. Her teacher and I agree. Natalia is fine and needs a nap.

So what is all this giving up talk about? Well, some of you know from my facebook that I am getting baptized on Sunday the 30th. The topic of baptism is kind of funny to me because there is such a broad spectrum of beliefs about it. Since this is my blog, I'm going to tell you how I came to where I am (succinctly I promise) and then yes, it will be about mommy-ness too.

So I was baptized when I was 7, not that my church had an age thing, like "Let's baptize our children around this time when they understand". No, it was my own choice, but it was made out of fear. Ok mommies, think about your child when he/she is 7. They NEVER want to be apart from you and if your child is like mine, she even made plans to find a fantastic husband (that daddy and I approve of) and move in to our house because she never wants to leave home. Home is that place that fills up that soul spot between your heart, liver and spleen and you just love even the thought of home so much. At 7 you can't imagine anything else taking that spot. Now when I was 7 I finally grasped that God was great, Satan was "bad", baptized people when to heaven and if you missed that bath, well you went to hell away from your family and God. In my 7 year old mind, if I died the next day (or in my sleep as I was worried about) I would have missed my chance and would be away from my family forever, stuck in hell with some monster. I told my mom that I HAD to get baptized that night. The water in the church baptistery couldn't even wait to be warmed I was so afraid and convicted at the same time. It was cold and gross. Now I see that even though God loves me, He had to be laughing. I mean, if Natalia told me that story, I would have been cracking up and blogging all about it - after I told her that is not how it goes AT ALL. 

Okay, so here I am one year ago at the fabulous age of 35, and one of my BFF's gets up from church and walks through a faux door on stage symbolizing that she was ready to take that next step in her life. I totally didn't get it at the time, but it brought me to tears (because I love her so much) and also made me SO uncomfortable. I was like, well I'm already baptized, so I'm cool, I just need to work harder and get involved. Maybe I'll read my bible in a year or something. I kept asking God "Please take my family" in the sense of "take care of them" so I would take that burden off of me - the control freak. I know this will shock all of you, but I actually make a terrible god. I just have too much in my mind to do everything that is required and frankly - ain't nobody got time for that.

Okay, we are back to the future and the other Sunday they made this benign announcement of baptisms on the Sunday coming up. Well it was like they just announced a pop quiz in high school. That sinking, excited feeling of "yeah, I think I'm ready; am I ready?" So on the way home that night I told Jeremy my decision and of course my BFF.

So what does this mean? I mean, y'all can be like: "Oh, congratulations Shauna" and secretly wondering if I am going to come knocking on your door now asking if you are aware Jesus is your personal Savior. Um, no. I only answer the door to strangers dropping off my latest Amazon purchase and girl scouts selling cookies. It a good rule to follow. In all cases, just teach your dog to bark while looking out the side door window at them. No, it means I am no longer going to try and clean up the mess I have made. I am not going to try and be perfect or go down some laundry list of to-do's to try and earn my way to a good relationship with God. My real friends know I am a mess, love me when I am off the chain and have to apologize and sorry girls, but God is way bigger than that. 

So after this baptism I will still cuss (although it was my New Years resolution to quit), I will still get mad at slow drivers on the road, I will still be a dramatic mess constantly trying to orchestrate my universe from time to time. I'm totally a work in progress. The point is, I'm His work in progress, not mine. I'm not supposed to be anything because I'm just supposed to let God do things in and around my life while I watch the beauty of it all. How easy is that! No wonder all these Jesus people are all excited when they get this! As Jillian Michaels says in her Ripped in 30 workout, week one "Look up and just give it to God". Now at the time you are about to poop your pants with this ab hold thing, but you get the point. 

Ok, motherhood: What if I show Natalia that having a relationship with God is an inward struggle and that is okay? Mind blown. What if I show her that I finally surrender all my craziness to Him and just enjoy the life that is gifted all around me. No, I am not high right now, it's true. She is such a little type-A just like me, but what I am about to start living (and am living now because come on, it's just water) is that you don't have to have it all figured out to hang out with perfection. My girlfriend last night poignantly said it when she stated "We see each others faults and mistakes, God just sees us". Amazing. Just me, just like I am. I don't have to get Him to accept my mistakes because He doesn't even see them. That is a gift to pass on to Natalia.

So when my girlfriend and I sat to have this talk last night over burrito salads (It's Cafe Rio so you guys know what I'm talking about), Natalia went with us. Even though she was picking at my food after destroying her own and playing a game on my phone, I know she was listening. Sometimes as moms we are just living examples to very astute eyes. They watch how we handle life and mimic just that. I'm not surprised that when Natalia gets frustrated she lets out this animalistic growl through clenched teeth. That's what I do. The initial reason was to keep me from yelling out a profanity so in the scheme of things I am trending in the right direction. Needless to say, she is still watching. 

I want her to make her own decision about this. I told God that I am giving up my family to Him and that means I am giving up her relationship with Him for the two of them to work out. That means Jeremy too. It's time for me to frankly butt out and do my own thing, spend a little time with just God and I and stop trying to orchestrate my universe. She may find Him in her 20's, or she may take the long road. What I want her to find in it is a relationship of faith, not fear. I spent most of my life as a baby Christian in the fear of God lying to myself that this was all there was. Poof, I got it, I was wrong and this is much easier. 

So, after I made this decision I finished the book "The Shack" by WM Paul Young that my baby sister recommended to me. Oh, it was soooo good. It all made total sense to me. It could be fact, it could be fiction and that is my favorite kind of story. A real mystery -just like life. All this being said: Here is to giving in and soaking it up. I'm glad I finally made it here because it took a while. ©

Sensible Beauty in the Motherhood

I admit it. I care what I look like almost all of the time - except when getting Natalia to the bus stop and there, I am pretty shameless. But for the most part, I try and look at least presentable in a sort of fabulous kind of way. I remember when I got pregnant I had this Scarlet O'Hara moment of declaration: "As God is my witness, I will never be frumpy again!", and I made it a point to look cute while I was pregnant. Not so much the first month after she was born, but they travel lighter when they are in utero. Here I am the mother of an eight (soon to be nine) year old, working full time, pimping out Girl Scout cookies and still trying to be a shadow of that fabulous presentability. It gets harder, not easier mommies, just so you know.

My girlfriend Kay suggested that I share some of my beauty tips, cheats, and not so secrets and I thought it would make for a fun blog. Here it is:

Hair

One of the best tips I got from a magazine is if you are in a rush, just fix the front of your hair around your face. Now I'm not talking leave that bed-head rats-nest in the back. Girl, brush that out. But do take what little time you have to fix your bangs or hair by your face. Another great shortcut tool is velcro rollers. Dry your hair and while it is still warm, roll it up in some of these. It saves your hair a beating from hot tools and adds volume. Those of you who know me know how I feel about big hair. The bigger, the better. While we are on the subject of damage control: Girls, stop washing your hair every day. "Gross, I work out every day (really?! I'm going to inspect your mom card) and I have greasy hair." To that end, let me introduce you to dry shampoo. Just don't spray it on the top. Lift up the crown section, spray LIGHTLY, and shake it through with your finger tips. No damage, it smells good, grease absorbed, voila. Make that blow out last you a couple of days. I wash my hair maybe 3 times a week and no one has commented or been offended. My stylist did, however, mention that my hair seemed less damaged between cuts. 

Ah, the haircuts. NEVER spend more than $40 on a cut. If you are, you are being ripped off and need to network with your girlfriends a bit more to find out where to go. Color is a different matter, that gets pricey I know, so don't be spendin' your hard earned cash on the cutting of dead hair. I overheard someone saying she pays $90 for a cut. A cut! It was not uber chic and my girl Desirea can do a better job for a better deal. I can give you her number. Use your money on worthwhile products like Moroccan hair oil. Oh, but look for it at Ross/TJ Maxx before you pay full price. We are being sensible, remember?






Makeup

This should be a rule listed on the box: If you are over 33 years of age, you can no longer wear Bare Minerals. Why? It totally settles into lines and makes you look older. I know, I know. I am totally guilty right now because I have some left over from when I was in love with how easy it was to brush on, but please, trust me on this. Find something that doesn't pill up when you blend it and apply with a makeup brush. Yes, there is a specific brush for that. Just goop a pea sized amount on the back of your hand and apply it only where you need it. Let some of your natural skin peek through. It looks better than that cake-like made up face. 


Ask yourself "Do I have the tools necessary to do my job". It's my favorite question on our yearly work survey because in the ER we break all of our toys within a week of getting them, so they are rarely replaced. My answer at work is always a resounding "No!". With my makeup, however, this girl has the basics to get it done. I bought my brushes for $12 at Walgreens. This way when they are all gooped up (who has time to wash them weekly?) I will just toss them and not feel guilty. I am on the same brush set for 2 years and occasionally wash them. My girlfriend Amy had me show her how to play with some eye shadow and I was mortified she didn't have brushes. She was making make up application WAY more tedious than it should be. Get some brushes and play, play, play until you are comfortable. I recommend using your child as a model for this, unless it is an infant. That would be weird. If you do, please send me a picture because that would also be very funny.

So what about when I am running out the door to pick up Natalia? Here are

my options: look like a washed out terminally ill, possibly alien mom; or dab on some lip stain (love Revlon's Just Bitten in Honey), pinch my cheeks for some color and curl my eyelashes followed by a swipe of mascara. Girl, a little effort is better than that alien mom look. I'm not saying go full glam all the time, but as sure as cheap wine gives me a headache, I will run into someone I know every time I venture out looking like a hag. 



Nails

Have you heard about nail stickers?! Busy moms know we ain't got no time for wet nails. Now there are two big contenders out there for these fabulous inventions: Jamberry nails sold in the Scentsy sort of fashion and require a hair dryer to set; or my personal favorite Sally Hansen - no dryer needed. Now the secret to these is the prep. If you follow the directions they will last you about 10 days. Now I admit I am too cheap to splurge on professional or at home gel nails kits. Y'all will have to remind me how fabulous they are and someday I'll ask for it for Christmas or something.

Skin Care

While I am cheap on somethings, other things I believe are worth the cost. Botox is one of them. Why? Because it is instant gratification and makes wrinkles DISAPPEAR! There is always a catch, or if you are a fan of "Once Upon A Time", a price with magic. You have to be cool with needle sticks to the face (it's not bad and I am a wimp), you have to start early before the wrinkles have time to really set and you have to get it redone every 4-6 months. I'm not kidding when I say I "Dave Ramsey" budgeted this into our life. To offset this cost, I go el cheapo on my other skin care stuff. That being said, look up info on coconut oil. That is the moisturizer of choice for both Jeremy and I. I know it sounds like a greasy mess, but it is actually a solid that absorbs so quickly. Now, my southern girls who have moisture in their habitat may not reap as many of the benefits as us arid climate girls. It is $10 for a jar at Wal-Mart and as long as you keep it out of the light when stored, it will last for months. 

Since I am blessed with both wrinkles and acne I have learned a couple of pimple tricks along the way. Afrin-like nasal spray or Visine will take the redness and some of the swelling out of a blemish within about an hour. Also, I am a die hard Neutrogena fan when my skin is acting up. Their "calming" line doesn't do a lot for my nerves, but it does help the pimples heal within a couple days. Short of getting cortisone injections into those, that's really the best you're going to do. Hours to erupt, days to go away. Cruel, but something we must live with. 

Fashion

Check out these cartwheel skills!

I am guilty of many crimes of fashion (ie jammy pants at the bus stop. Yes, I am THAT mom). I will say this, black yoga pants go a long way. I saw something on Pinterest that said "Yoga pants: Maybe I just worked out, maybe I just took a nap." Usually it's because I have just taken a nap (yay for school age kids) or I have convinced myself that wearing the yoga pants alone will inspire me to work out at 10:30 pm that night after a bowl of cereal and a glass of wine. Either way, it is a more fabulous alternative to jammie pants or sweats. While we are talking sweats: Thank goodness the trend of slogan writing across the bedonkadonk is over. The word "juicy" has lost all glamour and appeal. Our children will look back on those ads and laugh, as they should. 

So there you go. These are my tricks, credos and short cuts. Some of you may start talking about inner beauty, the importance of brains and other such traits to which I give you this: You don't see brains across a room or as a first impression, but beauty will only give you 5 minutes. After that you better have some brains to back up that fabulosity or you are going to be irrelevant, no matter how pretty you are. Just ask Megan Fox. That being said, there is no reason why we can't put forth a little effort. I know my husband appreciates it as much as I appreciate his man-scaping and smelling good. Like I respect my car by keeping it clean and polished, I respect myself by looking as polished as a trip to Wal-mart or a 12 hour shift will allow. You'll stand a little taller and smile a little brighter while you rock your dry shampoo'd, sock bun, lip stained, yoga pants self.

The Cure for Road Rage

So I am re-vamping what my blog is about. Well, not dramatically, but I just can't be confined to Natalia. Motherhood is so much more than just chronicling her growing up. I mean - I'm the mother, after all and this is my blog. More than that. I want to know more about what you guys think about all this. I want feedback, advice, your stories. I'm spreading my wings here about what it means for ME to be down in the motherhood. It's more of a gear shift than a re-vamp I guess. Let's shift into fifth, shall we? Vroom.

First of all, I want to apologize to all of those who don't live in Boise. You see, today is 65 degrees and very spring like. It even smells good. Last week I went snowboarding at the local ski resort that is one hour up the mountain while Natalia was in school. Here I am in my "zero gravity lounger" in my front yard blogging away while my princess diligently pounds the books. Oh, the dog is whining because he is dumb and wants to eat rocks. Strike that. It was a piece of ABC gum he found in our yard that I pulled out of his mouth, I should have let him have it. 

Earlier today Jeremy and I took Ripley to the dog park and on some errands. Boise is a super dog friendly place, and that is another reason I love it here so much. As we were trolling around town with Ripley's head out the back passenger side window (that is his favorite side) I could see people look over and smile. He really is a cute meat chunk. It got me thinking how quickly my own road rage is alleviate when I see a large breed dog (sorry, not a small breed kind of girl) with its head out the window. Ears flapping in the wind, nose pointed in the air, eyes slightly squinted in pure joy. I just love dogs. I decided to make a list of 10 small things that make me happy (in no particular order):

1. Big dog heads poking out of car windows
2. Convertible top down, down shift, punch it, no cops
3. The smell of Natalia when she is sleeping
4. Notes from Jeremy - better if it comes with a food item like "Hey, I bought you a fritter."
5. Glitter
6. Quiet time to myself when no one is home
7. When Natalia says "Mom?!" "Yeah?" "I love you."
8. When Jeremy can't resist grabbing my butt when he walks by. Even when I am trying to put on eyeliner. It's annoying, but if he doesn't do it I'm like, "What's wrong?"
9. Girl talk at night before Natalia goes to sleep
10. Sharing the shower.
11. Naps.

Okay, so that was 11, but naps are a big deal to me and I just couldn't leave them out.

Proof there are some plants
even I can't kill

So spring is here and I am ready for lawn games and children outside playing, running in and out of the house. I am ready to take Ripley everywhere now that it isn't too cold outside to keep him in the car and date nights downtown to people watch on the patios. Even though life get's pretty frustrating with series of unfortunate events and such, I try and remember the little things that make me happy and do those to get me through until the yucky things iron out. 

Okay, so what are your little happy things? Dancing in the kitchen to Duran Duran? Nachos? Alphabetizing your scrap paper? Do tell.

Beauty Rules and Goth Girls

For Natalia's homework this week she had to ask her parents what a few of our family "proverbs" are. Well, of course there is the "strawberry ice cream" one that I talked about a few blogs back, but then I added "beauty is pain". We use this one a lot in the mornings getting ready. Now, it isn't because I go all "Toddlers and Tiaras" on her, but we are growing out those bangs and to look and stay cute, I french braid them out of her face off to the side. That tiny twisting in the early hours of the morning is not always well received. It cracks me up that Natalia recited this proverb to her BFF Kayla when Natalia was staying the night at Kayla's house and Kayla was getting her hair done. Poor Kayla. Her hair tangles so easily and she has a ton of hair. Some beauty is more painful than others, because Kayla has beautiful hair.

Speaking of Natalia's BFF and beauty: One night while on the couch at our house, us three girls were sitting down watching "Say Yes to the Dress" and flipping through mine and Jeremy's old year books (we went to High School together). They were amazed he had hair and were fascinated by the "goth" kids. Natalia stated "I'm going to be goth." This made Kayla very upset. She explained that she is in no way allowed to hang out with goth kids who look like that because they are a bad influence. Natalia looked very puzzled and simply said "Well I would still be me, I would just wear black." Kayla insisted her parents would not understand. My next question was trying to figure out what they thought "goth" was. It really comes down to the hair and lipstick. Natalia said she would hold back on those and they went back to watching the bridal show and peace remained.

Natalia is finally at that point where I appreciate her sense of fashion, but I am starting to give her the tactful pointers that I know before the issues come up in the mall five years from now. I'm not going to play out any sort of teenage tantrum in front of Sephora or Forever 21. I figure I will start coaching her now before her friends do. I mean, the TV does enough coaching. Yikes. So these are some of the pointers I have rounded up:

Never wear a skirt where your butt touches the seat when you sit down. Also, if you have to constantly tug at the hem of your skirt when you get up, walk, or just stand there. It's too short. That 16 year old boy may think it's hot, but so does that 50 year old man in front of Pretzel Time. Ewwww.

You have to pick an asset to show off when you are older. You get either legs or shoulders (she's 8 and has no boobs yet, but you ladies know where I am going). If you are showing both, you are advertising. If your dress shows off your "shoulders", your hem should come to  right above your knees. 

This "pick one" rule goes for your face too. You either get eyes, or lips so you don't look like a painted lady. If you are easy on the eye makeup, pick a fun bright lip color. Smokey eye, keep the lip neutral and light. If there is too much you go back to looking like you are advertising. Oh, by the way, I got that term from my mom. Thanks mom. It's perfect.

One ring please. Oh dear Lord, don't put a bunch of rings on every finger unless you are about to fight someone. I'll leave it at that.

Nylons are so 1980's. Use spray makeup on your legs and wear underwear. Please. Wear some sort of underwear. God forbid you are in an accident and end up in the trauma bay at my work. I'm not saying we judge people for that, I'm just saying it is always surprising and there is this nano-second awkward pause when we are cutting clothes off and this is the missing element. 

Mainly, just be yourself. I don't mind if you are "goth" as long as you are happy, well adjusted, keep a job and don't shoot heroin. I'll help you color strands of your hair and pick out black eye liner and agree that I probably don't understand at all because honestly I can't remember what it was like to be 8, so I'm not going to remember what it was like to be 16. Just know that your mind and body are sacred and a treasure to daddy and I. We made you, adore you, and will fiercely protect you if we see you trying to damage something we love so dearly. I happen to love black eyeliner and black clothes, so you can rest assured that will not scare me away or cause me to take you to American Eagle to swap everything for plaid and stripes. That being said, I stand by the above mentioned beauty rules fiercely and will go Joan Rivers Fashion Police on you if you attempt to break them. 

Let me Clara-fy

Every mother knows that the only perspective that really matters is that of her beautiful child. We all know that the gossip coming out of our perfect cherub's mouth is accurate and true in every right. It is with this delusional knowledge that I have to tell you about the evil Princess Clara and her band of cronies who make my precious breath of perfection cry.

Evidently the new conspiracy theory club who solve such mysteries involving triangle people, telekinesis, mind readers and secret fairy activity amongst the mortal class was in fact started by Clara, but really there was a sister club started at Natalia's school, by Natalia at Silver Sage last year. Please try and stay with me. The world and your life may depend on this some day. Now that Natalia is at Christine Donnell, a new club was started with new members and the fight for good and truth is ongoing. Thank goodness Natalia believes in Jeremy and I enough to let us know about all this. Usually she thinks we are too dumb to keep up.

The problem is with Clara. She seems to have some mean girl tendencies which have reared their ugly head more than once. Now, I can totally sympathize with Natalia, because just like her, I want EVERYONE to like me and all get along. I don't care if you are a mean girl or not. I just want you to change your ways, like me and have some sort of "Full House" awakening moment to see the err of your ways. Yeah, that never happens, but I am a dreamer sort just like Natalia. My job is to try and teach her better, even if I can't always do better. What brought Natalia to tears yesterday was Clara telling Natalia that she and her BFF Kayla should not be friends. Now, why Natalia would get upset about this is beyond me because this is such a dumb suggestion. That's right. I said the "d" word, and I'll say it again. Dumb. Evidently it ruined Natalia's day and I blame it on boobies - as in Natalia is starting to get little booby nubs that I am so proud of because that is what moms get proud of. Loosing teeth, pooping, wiping their own butt, not eating their boogers and little boobies. We love that, but we hate that because she is very bipolar right now and probably for the next ten years. Yikes. At least she isn't boy crazy yet. 

Okay, so what do we do about the Evil Clara. First of all - Clara is probably just as normal as Natalia and may even have booby nubs too. Who knows. Her mom may be blogging about the Evil Bossy Natalia who made the sweet Clara cry, but I doubt it. I'm just trying to be judicial, but I ain't no Saint. First of all, I listened. That's right! Go back a few blogs and check that stuff out! See, learning from my own fabulousness! Next, I waited to figure out what a normal person should say, not a mean mama bear. This was my answer in two minutes (that is all I have for her attention span) from my months of therapy:

"Baby, are you ever going to change how Clara thinks?" 

"No." (proud mama fanning her face all beauty queen style for my smart girl)

"So here is my advice: You need to figure out how to not let Clara bother you because you will never change her. You just need to accept her the way she is. She doesn't get to pick your friends and she will never stop being who she is. You can't tell her that she is wrong. You can stop being around her, but you will probably lose a lot of friends around you that way. It's like me and my mom. My mom never changed, I had to change and she gets to stay who she is. Now we can talk and be happy because I just accept her the way she is and I don't expect her to be perfect. The best thing you can do is be a good example and stick up for those weaker than you."

"Well how do I do that?"

"That is for you to figure out inside your heart."

"That's hard. I love you mom. I'm hungry. Can I have some popcorn?"

See? Pretty nice. You know when you get to the food you have moved on from the problem and are back on track. She even turned the corner enough to make dinner for Jeremy and I for the first time EVER last night. It was awesome and no one called dinner "slop" that night. 

New Year Resolutions: Hot Mama Style

You know when you are kind of stuck in the middle of something and you just can't see beyond your personal bubble? That is where I am right now. I'll glaze over the details for Natalia's sake, since this is her blog of her childhood. 

Ooops, Mom's pregnant; well, maybe; well, yes; well, technically so, but the pregnancy never made it into the oven and there is blood in her belly; you have to go hang with Grandma while Mom has surgery, and Mom can't hug you for a while.

I'm still in the "a while" part of all this, waiting for the "ta-da! It's over!" part. Mentally I'm done with it all, I'm just waiting for my body to catch up.

So this has given me a lot of time on the couch with my laptop, and for the first time, some fierce writers block. I'm not usually the kind of girl who is at a loss for words, so this will be a brief one. I've decided to talk about what I want this year to look like for me as a mom, and since I didn't get the personal assistant I wanted for Christmas, I am doing on my own.

1. I am going to schedule mommy/daughter dates once a month. These are going to be special days where she and I make plans that no sleepover or impromptu comp. time shall render. We shall dress up in fabulosity and talk about superficial dumb stuff. 

2. I am going to meet her for lunch once every three months at school. It is huge for her. I don't know why because she kind of ignores me the whole time to talk to her friends, but according to her it is a big deal.

3. We are going to post a weekly scripture for at least two months and then in all honesty the novelty will probably burn out, I'll get busy and it will fall by the wayside. But hey, two months is a good goal to start with. I even downloaded and app, that is how serious I am. Booo ya.

4. Once a week I am going to get up, damn the makeup and blog at a coffee shop. This one is really hard for me because I am terribly vain and look like I'm about to die when I am sans make up. Some of you are saying "Oh, it's not that big of a deal." Which my reply is either A: You don't live in a town as small as Boise where you ALWAYS run into someone you know or B: You look good without makeup. Whether A or B, you don't count. Sorry, but sit your naturally pretty, incognito butt down and tell me how proud you are of me for going out looking like I may harbor the plague. And if you ask me if I am ill, I will give you a look that will steal 10 years off your soul. Just avoid me, please.

Yep. That's all I have for right now, but it's a start. A fresh start to a new year. 

My Heart Goes Out.

Some things are better left to Jeremy, and I'm okay with that. That is my stance on how to handle the murders of all the children and adults in Connecticut. It's not like we let Natalia watch the evening news, but we both knew that she was going to hear about it and it's best coming from us. Jeremy stopped by the ER tonight with Natalia to drop off a fleece for me, but while we made contact in the (momentarily) empty ambulance bay he did mention how he handled telling her. He started by explaining in very broad and simple terms what happened and wanted her to know that she is safe. In his moment of trying to explain that, his love for her made him get a little emotional. It's hard to look at such a lovely and alive child and think that someone could just steal that away in seconds. It's such a sinking tragedy.

While Jeremy was trying to reconcile out loud to Natalia that we don't know why God allows things like this to happen, Natalia started to soothe daddy. She let him know that God is with these people and children and that it's going to be okay. God has this; breathe deep.

It shakes me sometimes how deep her soul can be. Here is this little thing who two weeks ago I was carrying through Disneyland, and now she is spiritually soothing her dad. It sounded like he needed it. It's scary to think the most precious thing could be taken by forces completely out of our control. There is no bicycle helmet that could have prevented these deaths, no swim lessons, not even more diligent parenting. It's earth shattering to realize how little control we have.

So hopefully this will sit still enough in my heart to remember that I really don't care that Natalia's report card is mostly full of twos and that she cries during homework. Those parents right now would give anything, I'm sure to hear their baby cry about homework. I'm not going to get so frustrated for a while that Natalia left her jammies in a trail across the living room floor. I'd hate to have to put those jammies away forever. I know I haven't had an uninterrupted night of sleep on the days she is home for eight years, but God may I never know the day that my baby is gone and would no longer come running into my room for drinks, leg aches, nightmares, or just because she missed me.

While it is hard to not let fear hover in my life as a mom, I'll try not to let this weigh so heavily that I fiercely hold on to Natalia. After all, she still needs to be her little free spirited self, and still has to figure out her way in this world. When her life gets a bit shaky and overwhelming, God may Jeremy and I always be the lighthouse that brings her back home to take a breather. I still stand on my belief that there are more good and wonderful people than the horrible. I refuse to believe otherwise. 

Adequate Ventilation

So, let us just start this off with a little randomness and highlights. First, it was Halloween last night and anyone who is anyone knows that Draculora is THE woman to emulate this year (not really). The brilliance of Natalia's costume for this Monster High diva was most of the costume came straight from Natalia's closet. I have to admit that it makes me proud that Natalia already dresses like these new edgy Barbie-esqu dolls. The only things we had to buy were a wig, fish net tights to go over her already owned hot pink ones, and some fangs that didn't work out anyway. Of course this Pinterest Diva had a backup plan and painted the fangs on her bottom lip. It looked better anyway. I mean, seriously. Super cute and age appropriate. And if you really want to get all "mom approved nerdy" about it, she read the chapter book first. 

Another highlight before I delve into my Jack Handy deep thought is how much I love blow drying Natalia's hair. Not just because I love playing with hair, but because I never know what I'm going to get. Tonight she busted into the robot, as in the 80's dance move. Might I add she is pretty darn good at it, too with the swinging broken arm thing and all. I don't mind that I am having to chase her head around the bathroom with the hair dryer or that the singing goes from sweet mommy/daughter to competitive rather quickly (yeah, there is a lack of maturity here). It's pretty funny. Every once in a while it will be note worthy enough to make Jeremy stop what he is doing and peek into the bathroom to see what is going on. Sometimes he will even catch a bit on film. She nor I are embarrassed about it. The acoustics are amazing and it is important to take a little time each week to work on your moves. That is why her "robot" has come so far. (See me doing the "beauty pageant winner face fan" in my proud mama kind of way.) Those of you who know me are cracking up because you see me do this..... often. I've worked on it in front of the mirror too.

Okay, back to my focal point. Since I have a (very) small audience, most of you know I am an ER nurse. There are a few reasons why, none of which include me wanting to sit at a patient's bedside and hold his hand while healing takes place. You have to go to another floor for that kind of nurse. ER nurses are "fixers". You give us a problem, and just like Vanilla Ice - "Yo, I'll solve it." I consider myself a good listener, but I am a "fixer" through and through. 

Jeremy was venting to me about wanting to lose weight and tone up. I listened, was empathetic, then started mapping out a plan. He was sweet enough to listen, then politely told me that he knows how I love to help by planning things out, but he really just wanted to vent. Oh. What a novel idea. The love of my life, the bestie among besties wanted to dish only to have me - well, at the time I don't know what I was supposed to do. Smile and nod? Compliment him on what he looks like now? Go all "valley girl" with a "I know, right?". I'll come back to that.

Here's another one: One of my favorite friends totally needed me, so I stepped in, stepped up, and helped a sista out. First of all, like any good Southern girl, we started with a good meal of comfort food. When in angst, start with a good meal and a hug. See, a "fixer". Okay, then we moved on to her laying it all on me. She had a lot she needed to get off her chest that she had just had festering for a long time. We sat for hours with a box of tissues, two snugly blankets and then I made some nachos, because ya gotta replenish that comfort food when the angst has built up for more than a few weeks. I don't make the rules up, I just follow them. Anyway, after the evening was pretty much done I wrote down a list of all the things I thought she needed to do to "fix" her situation. I told her how I would hold her hand through each "fix", and then I told her how much I love her. I do. She's pretty much ah-mazing. 

Me making an action plan for her certainly made me feel better. I'm not sure if it really made her feel any better, though. I know me being there for her, telling her that she is my girl and showing her how much I care mattered a heck of a lot more than my "fix list". I know that I did a good job listening, but after the listening part, I should have asked "What do you need me to do". If she didn't know then I think that should be my carte blanche. Well, not really. Well, kind of, but not really.

How did I come upon this super-sane realization? Was it Jeremy's frank discussion with me in the shower (yes, our best discussions happen there and I highly recommend it). No props for him. It was an 8 minute discussion with Natalia after school where she had to lie to me to shut me up. Talk about wounding a mother's heart. Ouch.

I don't even remember the whole story, but it was something about her and her BFF getting into a disagreement that day over something girly and lame. You know the kind. "I told Kayla that I like her, but I wanted to play with Aspen for a while that recess. Kayla got mad, then wouldn't talk to me on the bus." or something very "Saved by the Bell" sounding. I started in on a long winded lecture about calling Kayla to work it out, blah, blah, blah. That is when my sweet cherub became possessed by the demon Fibacus - unholy creature of obvious fibs which are poorly presented so even a non-mom could tell that this child just lied. Natalia's lie detector is pretty easy right now anyway. If you ask her straight out "Is that for real, or are you making that up a little bit?", if she is lying she will either become outrageously defensive or will erupt into a fit of giggles. It's too easy.  This time it was giggles.

She sighed like she does when I have completely exasperated her and explained that she lied because she had just wanted to vent. Natalia told me that sometimes she just wants to tell me what happened, but doesn't want me to tell her what to do about it. This was very thought provoking for me. Not only had my daughter politely just told me to shut up, but I realized if I want her to keep dishing to me, I better learn to listen and only "fix" if she asks me to. Besides, am I not supposed to be teaching her how to "fix" her own problems? Obviously I have enough to work on myself. It's a good thing I have my eight year old to teach me these Cosby moments. Where would I be without her? I'll tell you where I would be. I'd be in the shower complaining to Jeremy that no one ever takes the advice I gave that they never asked for. Here, let me fix that for you.....

So I think I will get my "fixing" fix from the ER and just work on being a good listener for my family and besties. I'm sure I will get lucky one day and SOMEONE will want my advice, and they may even take it. Oh, be still my heart. I stand firm on the fact that an acute attack of stress requires a reasonable amount of comfort food, a hug, a blanket and a good friend; but that is just common sense, not necessarily me splitting the atom here. Forgive me if I test out my listen-while-I-button-my-lip skills on y'all because this is all practice for the good fight, which is being the go-to girl for Natalia. The conversations are going to get a lot tougher than recess and even I know she is going to stop coaching me at some point.  

Controlled Chaos

Well, I can't guarantee this blog will be very "motherhood-ish", but it's more of a "day in the life". My blog, my rules.

Two years back, Natalia and Jeremy had surgery within one week of each other and I vowed at that time, never again. As in, never again are two Lacows allowed to have surgery within a short time period. In true Lacow form, we broke that rule. 

You see, Jeremy and I are living out our geriatric dream of having busted up joints in young 30 something bodies. I have a jacked knee, which I had some arthroscopic surgery done on my birthday (of all days), followed two weeks later by Jeremy having hardware removed from his foot. Yep, we are a sexy crew. Let me painfully elaborate.

My knee was keeping me from doing two things dear to my heart - Jillian Micheal's Ripped in 30 and wearing high heels. Not to mention walking on the sand once a year was painful. Something obviously had to be done, right?! So it was off to the orthopedist after me whining about this bum knee for five years. It just so happened the available date for The Knee God Surgeon was on my birthday. Oh, did I mention Jeremy had planned a surprise birthday party for me that day? Well, it was a surprise until he freaked out about the planning and had me start planning it myself. Any who, I had heard that getting a knee "cleaned out" was no big deal and that after 3 days people were back to work, normal, happy, cured, whatever. Yeah, I think you know where I am going with this. 

The day of my surgery (ie my birthday) was also Natalia's first day of school. At a new school. With a new bus route. With new friends. This is bigger than surgery in my book, so I drove myself to the hospital and had Jeremy stay with Natalia to see her to the bus and rally her for the first day. My plan was to steal one of my night shift friends away from the ER at 6am to do some pre-surgical hand holding. Of course this is the morning that a couple of people decide to shoot each other and someone else was intubated in another room. Needless to say, no friendly nurses to spare, so I made the walk of shame to pre-op on my own. Jeremy showed up sometime while I was in surgery and was there when I awakened..... with a non-rebreather mask on and covered in hives from the antibiotic they gave me. Oops. Nothing a little Decadron and oxygen couldn't handle.

Since I was convinced this surgery was cake and Jeremy is not used to party planning, I helped clean the house a couple hours after I got home from surgery. Hey! It was just a knee thing. We had our little party gathering (costumes and all), but by 10:30 I let everyone know that I was down for the count. Holy cow I was sore. Not to mention I stayed sore and not for just 3 damn days. Ohhh, no, no, no. When I went in for my post-op appointment I found out why. Evidently my cartilage in my knee was a bit more complicated than just a "touch up". I spent two weeks on my tush - pouting. No, I should not have been cleaning the house or vacuuming the same day as my surgery.

On a good note, at least Natalia is back in school, so I am not feeling totally guilty for being a couch potato these last two weeks. I have to say that her new teacher is awesome. Homework is so organized that Natalia can actually do it by herself without me having to spoon feed assignments to her. Amazing, right?! Okay, so let me recap some mommy daughter stuff since I haven't blogged in a while and my last blog was all "sad clown face" stuff:

The day before my surgery we hit the fair. We wised up this year and got the "ride until you puke" bracelets. Jeremy shouldn't have bothered because he evidently does not like to puke. I only came close to vomiting once on the Viper, but I had just had a beer. Classic. Natalia peer pressured me into going on the upside down rides which were totally fun. It's not that I don't like going upside down, or that it makes me sick. Let me just tell you that I have taken care of these carny folk a time or two and I totally don't trust the craftsmanship of rides put together by a man with a positive drug screen and a blood alcohol level of 0.25. We obviously lived to tell the tale. Can I tell you something else? I milked a cow. That's right! Yes, yes. Natalia milked her too, but I milked a cow. I don't know why I'm so impressed since I produced my own milk for half a year, but at the time it was the coolest thing ever. Natalia totally squirted the woman manning the "cow milking station" in the face. I thought it was funny. Hey, we got stickers and everything. Got milk?

Natalia has adjusted to her new school super well. Just so you know, the back of the bus is still THE coveted place to sit. Yep, that's where the cool kids want to hang and if you happen to go to Christine Donnell, then you get first dibs because Silver Sage kids get picked up second. It's kind of a big deal. Also, Porter has looked at Natalia AND asked to borrow her pencil eraser. She is expecting him to kiss her on the cheek next, but I let her know that boys that age really don't roll like that. I told her he is more likely to punch her in the arm. She was kind of disappointed, but said she would keep hoping. I tried to explain to her that boys that age just don't think about girls in that romantic kind of way at all. She just looked at me like I was speaking Chinese. I thought it best to change the subject. 

There is still an ongoing fascination with squirrels on the playground. Again, these are the animal varietal, not the strange human kind. I clarified. At her new school they no longer make "habitats", instead the girls gather nuts and acorns during recess, leave it in a pile where they think the squirrels may frequent, then recheck these areas during the next recess to see how much squirrel activity is going on. Natalia is very serious when she talks about this squirrel research. I asked why she cares so much and she looked at me with this distasteful and incredulous look and stated "They need food for the winter mom!" Um, okay. Sorry, but squirrels are rats with fluffy tails and are disgusting. We shall agree to disagree on the squirrel quarrel.

Lastly (for reals), it is amazing how independent Natalia has become over the summer. She scooters two blocks to her friends house and shows up later, usually after dinner. Then she'll head out again across the street until just before bed. The truth is, she would rather play with her friends than just hang out at home with Jeremy and I. No, I'm not obtuse, but up until this summer, she would have a couple play dates, but would mostly hang with Jer and I. Not so much anymore. She apologizes for it a bit because she says she misses us. Awe. Isn't she so cute you want to eat her up? I tell her that she's supposed to want to ditch us for her friends and that we'll always be here. I love having kids running in and out of our house, the phone calls back and forth, the impromptu sleep overs and friends over for dinner. Love it! It makes our house a home. I love the controlled chaos of children and pets and family. We have another Disneyland trip coming up the first week of December. Every vacation is super special with the three of us, but Jeremy and I were talking about how much we are really going to appreciate this one. We know that Natalia loves her friends time, but we are going to covet our time with her as our little Lacow trio where we get her all to ourselves. No friends, no boys, no squirrels. Just us, churros, Disney and "rides till you puke". 

Clarity and Corn Mazes

I love fall because this is when I know I get to gear up for the holidays and our yearly family vacation. Jeremy and I are pretty blatant about the fact we vacation on the off season because our goal is to get away from people. Can you blame us? Both of us have jobs that frequently involve humans who smell like blood and regurgitated alcohol, who scream at us. We are going to pull our sweet cherub out of school to sneak away while the majority of the populous is otherwise occupied with jobs and school. You would think this would keep the blood and alcohol thing to a minimum. Go figure, but it's job security for both of us.

So what has been going on? Well, first and foremost, Natalia has got glasses. Not those sneaky non-prescription "attitude" glasses that show up in school pictures unbeknownst to the parenthood until the photos are sent home and we can't pick our kid out of the student lineup. Nope, the real thing. Natalia asked "Mom, do you notice how every pair I try on looks good on my face?" Yes, baby. I know. She posed this as a questions, but I think she was saying more as a statement. How does Natalia explain the marvel of her new clarity? "Mom! I can see the makeup on their faces.  Can you see the makeup on their faces?" This is her observation of the actors on TV from the table viewing area during dinner. Aw, poor thing. It is sad not to be able to see all the great makeup options during "Once Upon a Time". The princesses are so pretty. I do like how she thinks her vision is not only improved, but now must be better than Jeremy or mine. We just go with it because she is an 8 year old girl and there are plenty of battles during the day to be waged. It's about the war people, not every battle is won.

Other than that, family outings have included hiking in the foothills (which was her pick and she complained about the exertion the entire time) and the corn maze hosted by Jeremy's work. We were kind of disappointed this year because there were some budget cuts and we missed out on our annual bag of donuts. We did however indulge in the roasted corn. Um, two ears of corn that we swap back and forth between the three of us. I don't know which ear started where, but we all end up happy with junk stuck in our teeth. This year they had tether balls set up. What started out as a cute "just hitting it back and forth" to play with Natalia, got all competitive in a take-your-jacket-off and throw it down kind of way. It was a bit of a spectacle, but Jeremy and I get a little carried away, much to Natalia's annoyance. What can I say? You meet someone in high school and you just stick with that same playful competitive mentality - even into middle age. Or maybe that is just us.

I actually hate the corn maze part. It is five miles boring to me. You walk around, it is five degrees cooler, I'm waiting for Satan and Malachi from Children of the Corn to come out, and it is really just a time waster because I have no sense of direction and can't read that map. Here is what I have learned to do as a solution - put Natalia in the lead and follow her. You would think we would get totally lost, but this child has her father's sense of direction. She leads us here and there, but after ten minutes always finds her way back to the original path and out of the maze from the same place we started EVERY TIME. Now her sense of direction isn't so great as for her to know that we are right back where we started and she feels this tremendous sense of accomplishment and Jeremy and I tell her how amazing she is. See. Everyone wins.

This year we actually bought pumpkins from the pumpkin patch. I'm a girl who loves options, so there was a patch side for baby pumpkins, regular pumpkins, and designer pumpkins. Now we didn't know about the afore mentions budget cuts ahead of time and didn't bring a lot of cash with us, so we headed over to the baby side. Now that I think of it, those pumpkins are still in the bottom of my purse and cost us a whopping $.35. That's right. Big ballers. 

So here I am hanging out, just me and the dog because Natalia has ditched me once again for her friends. She is sleeping over at Kayla's because Kayla wouldn't be down with my Halloween decorations. Natalia is very proud of them and isn't bothered by my "stab man" sillhouette. Halloween is more fun now that she is older and I can make the decorations more scary, but the payoff is that her costumes for the next few years will always be mostly pretty. I am kind of tired of explaining Draculora to my friends and where she falls on the Disney Princess to Bratz doll skank scale. Oh well. I remember wanting to dress like Madonna and singing "Like a Virgin" and "Papa don't Preach". It could be worse. 

Speaking of Disney, our vacation is only five weeks away. Finally Jeremy and I will have Natalia all to ourselves for a week without the option of her ditching us for her friends. It will be Thanksgiving, Disney, then right on into Christmas. After that there is nothing to do but snowboard the winter away.