Silly Mom Thoughts

I must apologize for my absence. Against my better judgment, I have found myself completely sucked into New Moon, the second book in the Twilight series. I utterly despise the fact that I enjoy these books. This is not to say that I think I’m the most amazing writer ever, but I am a good reader. I can spot good writing very quickly, and the Twilight books are quite poorly written. It’s frustrating to me, infuriating even. New Moon and Twilight are good, they’re compelling, but they could be a million times better!

This is what my face feels like every time I read those damn Twilight books. It hurts me to enjoy them:

One day, I will write a book that rocks people’s socks off. It will be enjoyed by my readers not simply for the fact that it’s interesting and compelling, but also because it’s well written. There, I said it. You can hold me to it, darn it.

In my New Moon inflicted absence, I have been hemming and hawing over what to write for “The Present” and “The Future” in the Accentuate short story contest. I have a couple of interesting ideas, but I really need some time to myself to simply sit and hash it out and see where the stories take me. I don’t go into anything half-assed and I refuse to submit something unless it’s thorough and complete. My goal is to have at least two stories written for the contests by the end of the month, and I’m sincerely hoping I will be able to do that. So long as I can finish that damn New Moon and get my head out of la-la land, I think I can do it.

I also just found out today about an awesome new publication I’m going to submit to. It’s called Unsent Letters and is put on by the same company that does the short story contests. Right now, they’re accepting blogs or submissions to their publication, and they pay handsomely (in my opinion) for it. The idea is to write a letter that you would never send, you can change names and locations, including your own, but create a compelling story through the letter. They can be fiction or nonfiction. Personally, I have always been a big letter writer, especially of the unsent variety, and I have a bunch of ideas for this one. I’m so excited! Oh, and anyone can submit, so even if you don’t think you’re a writer but have a good idea, you should try it anyway.

On the twin-front, not much new to report other than I look five months pregnant and am just twelve weeks today! My next appointment is in a couple of weeks and I’m quite anxious to hear their heartbeats, or maybe even see them on an ultrasound again. I can’t stop worrying that something is going to happen to one or both of them, but I’m trying not to think that way and stay positive. Morning sickness has left for the most part, though every few days it hits with a vengeance. Unfortunately, I’m still dog tired, but I think that’s something I may just have to get used to for oh, say, the next three years.

(When you’re a Mom, you come up with new words for sh*t. Today, I’m substituting “macaroni.” Sounds tastier, anyway.) Holy macaroni, I’m in shock. So much, in fact, that I started this blog at least ten different ways and deleted it because I couldn’t find the right words. There simply are no words to describe the feeling of what I’m about to tell you. None, nada, nil.

On Tuesday, I mentioned that I was a finalist in the Accentuate Writers Anthology Contest and that I would find out later this week if I made first, second, or third place.

It was announced early this morning that we would be finding out the results in the afternoon. Immediately, my heart started thumping. I felt confident in my story, but I hadn’t read most of the other entries and I know the people who were in the finals with me are super creative and talented. I really wanted to place, to hold a spot in another anthology. It would grant me even more encouragement that yeah, I am a writer and I can do this.

The results were posted and I forced myself to read everything before scrolling down to see who the winners were. It was so close, Michy mentioned, and difficult to judge.

Oooh, please have mine be in there! I silently begged the computer screen.

Scroll, scroll, heart beating out of my chest and wham!

“First Place: #101-Second Chance-Lindsay Maddox“

Holy macaroni, did I read that right?!

Sure enough, along with my forum buddy, Jo Brielyn, and a forum buddy’s hubby, Thor Gunnin, was my name.

Do you know what this means?

Along with a sweet cash prize (something that we need so badly) and some other goodies, I will be published in another anthology! I still cannot wrap my head around it. Oh my goodness, am I so excited. And proud, too. I know it isn’t good to be too prideful, but I really worked my butt off polishing that story. It was brutal, tedious, and heartbreaking to edit it down. Now I can see that it was totally worth it!

Wohoooo!

A year ago, if you would have told me, “Lindsay, you are going to be published in a book next March,” I would have looked at you like you had centipedes crawling out of your ears. “Yeah, okay,” I would have replied, and in the back of my mind thought, “Whatever you say, nut job.”

And yet, I am going to be published in a book this March! My name will be on the cover and everything. Do you have any idea how amazingly cool and unbelieveable that is?! Me. Gutter brained, hardly-ever-takes-much-seriously, stay-at-home-mom, me. Published. In a book. With my name on the cover.

I found out this exciting news back in November, and it has yet to sink in. Maybe once I have the book in my hands it will.

To catch you up to speed, in case you weren’t one of my super cool blog readers a few months ago, I won first place in a short story contest through Accentuate Services. Without giving away too much of the story (because, well, don’t you want to check out the whole story?), my short piece deals with stillbirth, adoption, love, and loss. It is dedicated to the memory of Janell Victory Allen, my friend’s daughter who never took a breath in this world.

So, what does this all have to do with right now, you ask?

Well, I submitted another story to the Accentuate Writers Anthology Contest a couple of weeks ago. With all that has been going on in my life, I nearly forgot about it, until the discussion came up on the forum. Today, I found out that I am a finalist in the most recent contest! This means that hopefully later this week, I will find out if I placed in this contest. If I did, I will be published in the next anthology (and win some money too)!

The themes for the upcoming anthology are so cool. The one I submitted to that is currently being judged was “The Past.” The other themes are “The Present” and “The Future.” I’m a sucker for time, time travel, and all that fun stuff, so I can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with. Personally, I am at a loss for what to write for “The Present” and “The Future,” but I’m hoping something comes to me before the deadline.

What a difference a day makes, eh? Yesterday I was whining about life, and today I’m stoked about my writing career. Plus, today marks 11 weeks, so I’m nearly out of the first trimester! Come on second trimester, with your beautiful lack of morning sickness and increased energy…

There is something a friend’s mom once told me about marriage that has stuck with me. “Lindsay,”  Patti said, “In your marriage, you will fall in and out of love. You will always love your spouse, but it’s impossible to be in love with them all the time.” Though I was just fifteen or so when she doled out this marital wisdom, I was so shocked and yet relieved at what she said, I decided it was important enough to store in my memory banks. And, though my friend’s mom has since left this world, I will cherish this wonderful piece of advice she gave.

I believe this simple statement made by a 40-something mom to her daughter’s friend is what has given me a realistic look at my own relationships, and particularly my marriage. I also believe that people need to go into marriage with that statement tattooed across their forehead. If more starry-eyed couples were told, “You will fall in and out of love, and that’s normal” I believe that maybe there would be less divorce in the world.

Think about that statement and how much weight it takes off of a relationship:

You do not have to be in love all the time.

Shew!

I love my husband dearly. We have been together for almost 10 years now, and I know that there will be good times and not-so-good times. I know there will be times in-between when we reach a plateau and we’re just there. Most importantly, I know that this is all okay. It’s normal. There have been times in the past, and I’m sure there will be times in the future, when I would rather spend time by myself than hang out with Turk. There have been times when I have been so furiously mad at him, I just want to scream at the top of my lungs and run far, far away. Fortunately, these instances are few and far between, but they still do happen. In those moments, though, I know in my heart that I still love him. I know that we will reconcile our differences and apologize profusely when it all passes. It is okay that I’m not in love with him at that moment, because after we weather each storm, I know that I will love him even more.

Getting married doesn’t automatically bind you to your spouse, and nor should it. Being in a marriage does not involve morphing into this two headed creature with the same last name. As such, you remain individuals in a marriage with different thoughts and actions. Though the honeymoon period of a relationship may blind you to this fact, it will eventually surface that you and your spouse are not, in fact, exactly alike. Walking down the aisle is just the beginning of the adventure of marriage, much like giving birth is only one small, but important, step in becoming a parent. It takes time, it takes work, and it takes a whole lot of love and patience.

There is simply no humanly possible way to stay googly-eyed and in love all of the time. To tell you the truth, I’m glad. If everything in our relationship was sweet and wonderful, we wouldn’t be growing as individuals or as a couple. We would be stagnant. I would much rather undergo difficulties in my marriage and come out on the other side loving my husband even more, than just co-existing and pretending everything is okay.

Marriage takes work, and sometimes it isn’t fun work. Sometimes, when Turk and I are at odds, I find myself infuriated with him that he isn’t seeing things my way. He, at the same time, is infuriated with me for not seeing things his way. But, that’s what makes us a good couple. It is a good thing that we are both strong-willed and stand up for ourselves. At the same time, it’s also good when we come to a resolution and either the person in the wrong sucks up their ego and admits fault, or we compromise and agree to disagree. That’s another great thing about marriage: You can disagree! You are two individuals with different thoughts, feelings, emotions, and backgrounds. It only makes sense that you’re going to disagree on certain things. So long as they aren’t major things, like one person absolutely refuses to have children and the other wants a whole litter of babies, you can work past disagreements.

There is one rule we live by during arguments: We never, and I mean never say the “D” word. Divorce is not an option for us, unless infidelity or abuse of any kind is concerned. With ten years of a loving relationship behind us, we should be able to work out our problems. So, especially in the heat of an argument, we don’t talk about divorce.

The way I see it, and I think Turk would agree, is that we have arguments, we come to a conclusion, and we let it drop, so long as neither one of us is holding on to any resentment or hard feelings. If there are still feelings about the argument, we work them out until they’re gone. It is my sneaking suspicion that if we didn’t do this, and a little bit of each argument was left over in either of our hearts, that hurt or resentment would pile up and pile up, until it exploded to something very ugly. Something that would drive a wedge between us and break up our family.

I’m not saying we have a perfect marriage, by any means. We have been together for close to ten years, but we have only been married for five. I know this is peanuts compared to most marriages, and I know we have much to learn about each other still. But, we are doing everything we can to make sure we continue learning about each other and growing together as much as we grow individually. We make it a point to spend time without the kids, just being a couple, because our marriage is as important to our kids as it is to us. I do not want to wake up one morning, in 20 years when the kids are (hopefully) out of the house, roll over and stare at the man next to me, wondering who the hell he is. I also don’t want to lose sight of the reasons I fell in love with the man in the first place (and no, Turk, it really wasn’t your 1988 Volkswagen Golf or your money *wink*). I hope and pray that the next fifty years are as wonderful as the first ten have been… or even more so.

This is slightly off-topic, but I simply love old ads. Check out this Palmolive Soap Ad from 1922. Too bad soap didn’t cost $.10 anymore. Maybe then, money would be one less thing we’d have to fight about in marriage!

Some of my most wonderful and warm memories emanate from Christmases past. I remember big things, like going to Nonnie and Papa’s house every year, or the barnyard service my church put on (it was so cool, we were literally in a barn with hay, a manger, and everything). But I remember little things too, like the year I got a blue-eyed, black-haired baby doll wearing a dark blue sailor dress. That same night, while my dad carried me in his arms out of Nonnie and Papa’s house to go home, I glanced in the sky and saw a bright light. I realize now it was just an airplane or a helicopter, but then I believed it was Santa. I remember my dad exclaiming, “Uh oh! Looks like Santa’s already in the area, we’d better get home and get to sleep!” Just the memory of that night makes my heart leap, remembering the anticipation and excitement I felt.

My happy memories are equally inclusive as far as being a Christian and believing in Santa go. I remember those barnyard services, the smell of hay and the crisp winter air biting at my cheeks. I remember the midnight candlelight services when we sang Silent Night and the only light that shone in the room was created by the congregation’s candles. I hold a warm place in my heart for the church Christmas choir concerts, a couple of them I was fortunate to be a part of.

My heart flutters, remembering the feeling of snuggling into my comforters on Christmas Eve and listening intently for Santa’s Sleigh until my eyelids grew heavy and I drifted off to sleep. I succinctly remember the anticipation of walking down the stairs too early on Christmas morning, and the utter delight upon seeing the presents spilling out beneath the tree, and stockings leaning against the fireplace, stuffed so full they were nearly toppling over. To this day, if I have a piece of chocolate in the morning, it brings back vivid Christmas memories, since that was the only time we were allowed to have chocolate before we ate breakfast. At the same time, I remember the sense of let down when we opened our last gifts, knowing that it would be another year before I got to experience the magic again.

I know what you may be thinking but, no, it wasn’t about the gifts. Don’t get me wrong, my parents gave us some pretty cool stuff that I loved. We weren’t crazy rich, and they didn’t spoil us by most standards, which I am immensely grateful for. But the magic wasn’t about the gifts necessarily, it was about the anticipation, the build-up to the big day.

There was a similar let-down feeling when my parents revealed to us there was no such thing as Santa Clause. I remember it well, and feel slightly guilty about it too. I had my suspicions for a while, and one year decided to let my brother in on those suspicions. He is three years younger than me. I feel as though I took away three years of his Santa-believing innocence.

A short time before Christmas that year, I pointed out that the Santas in our Santa pictures were all different. He countered that of course they were different, everyone knows that it’s Santa’s elves who help out in the malls while he works in the North Pole. Still, it didn’t sit right with me, and my brother didn’t seem convinced either. We sat our mom down for a Santa talk and she revealed that we were correct, there was no such thing as Santa.

Although I knew what she said was true, it was hard to accept. Still, I made my mom promise that they wouldn’t put the presents under the tree until after we were in bed, even though we knew that they weren’t from Santa. One year, she suggested opening all of our presents on Christmas Eve so we could all sleep in on Christmas Day. I wouldn’t have it, even though I was married by this time. This all continued until I was 24, in fact, the last year I was at my parent’s house on Christmas morning. It’s the magic of it all, you see. The magic and anticipation.

Now, I’m in my own house and on Christmas morning Turk and I get to play Santa. Last year, Bug was 2 and for the first time excited about all the aspects of Christmas. I was giddy while Turk and I placed the few presents we could afford under the tree and filled the stockings with a few more items. That night, I slept horribly, the eagerness for Christmas morning to arrive renewed in my heart. It felt much like Christmas Eves as a child when I forced myself to close my eyes and go to sleep so the morning would come even quicker.

This year, thanks to my short story contest winnings, we were able to get even more presents to place under the tree. I cannot wait to see Bug and Bean’s eyes widen when they walk out to our living room, lit only by the lights of the tree, to see their gifts from Santa. My hope is that they will grow up with the same sense of magic for Christmas, a magic that goes much further than shiny paper and bows.

As moms, we are complete gluttons for punishment, aren’t we? When we get a chance to go to a party and let loose, we stay up late despite the fact that our little ones will wake us up at the crack of dawn the next day. We endure mastitis, cracked and sore nipples, and thrush just to go one more day to breastfeed our baby. We clean our houses spotlessly, although we know our kids will destroy it minutes later.

Most of all, we have more kids.

Moms love this torture, I tell ya. But dang, our kids are worth it.

At the request of Ann, one of my super awesome blog followers, I’d like to give you a little insight on what to expect when you add baby #2 to the family, and how to make the transition as smooth as possible. I promise not to sugar-coat it, because really, that won’t benefit you at all, will it?

Are you ready?

You sure?

Alright then…

Let me just put this out there to begin with: Transitioning from one to two kids was one of the hardest things I have ever experienced. Here are some problems I faced, and solutions I finally figured out. I hope they help you too!

Adding Another Baby Issue # 1: Sleep When the Baby Sleeps

When you have a baby, everyone tells you, “You have to sleep when the baby sleeps.” After you have your second child, you’ll begin kicking yourself for all the times you didn’t heed this suggestion with your first. In your beyond exhausted state, you’ll wish your newborn was the one tucking you in to nap every few hours. When you mention that you’re not getting to nap much during the day, people will constantly tell you, “Well, you’ll just have to get your two kids on the same schedule, then!” Seriously? Has anyone actually tried convincing a newborn to stay awake? It’s difficult. No, scratch that. It’s impossible.

Solution:

When the newborn goes down for a nap, put yourself and your older child in a child-safe room (preferably one with a TV). Whether it’s the living room and you have gated off the hallway, or in your bedroom and you have locked the door and/or gated the door, park yourselves in the room. Supply your older child with their favorite toys and plenty of movies. Fall asleep. I won’t guarantee that it will be a relaxing sleep, because your older child will probably bug you to put the arm back on a doll or change the movie every 20 minutes, but it will be something. Take whatever sleep you can get. (Just make sure the room is safe and your little one can’t escape!) Oh, and be prepared to wake up to a super messy room.

Adding Another Baby Issue #2: Establishing a Routine

Remember when you had your first child and you felt like it was difficult getting into a routine? Yeah, so, it’s worse with two. What makes it even more difficult, is that while your older child’s routine doesn’t change drastically from week to week, a newborn’s does.

Solution:

For the sake of your older child, stick to at least part of their normal routine after the first couple of weeks. The fact is, that your routine will change with your new baby and never be the same again. Maintaining some semblance of the old routine will help immensely, even if it includes you in pajamas all week long. Don’t stress too much about a stringent routine, however (unless you have to). Once your newborn reaches about 3 months old or so, you’ll be in a fairly consistent routine without much effort.

Adding Another Baby Issue #3: Taking a Shower

Ahh, the little things in life, like brushing your teeth and showering, seem to get pushed aside when you add another baby to your family. It is difficult finding a way to shower when you have two kids to worry about. I know many moms who, when they had their second child, didn’t shower until their husbands came home from work, and by then, they were so tired they often fell asleep instead!

Solution:

Don’t give up sleep to take a shower, if you can help it! Park your newborn in a bouncy seat or other type of baby seat and sit them next to the shower. (Bonus: If they’re suffering from a stuffy nose (and all newborns seem to have some nasal issues), the steam from the shower may help clear up their nose!) Do this while your older child naps, or while they’re safely in another room. Or, bring your older child into the shower with you. (Bug hated the shower until I tried this with him when Bean was a newborn. I told him it was raining in the bathtub and he thought it was the coolest thing ever.)

Adding Another Baby Issue #4: Making Your Older Child Feel Loved

This was such a huge issue for us, as it is for any parent adding a sibling to rock their older child’s world. You don’t want your child to feel left out or replaced, but you also want to spend lots of time snuggling with your newborn. Fortunately, you can do both, and do them well.

Solution:

We started doing little things to include Bug well before Bean was born. We let him help put her crib together, I let him “feed” my belly button to give her some food, we let him put diapers on his teddy bears, etc. After she was born, Turk stayed home for a week, which was awesome. He spent lots of good quality time with me, the grandparents, and friends. Your older child doesn’t necessarily want toys and things to feel love, they want you, and they want to feel included. Don’t freak out every time they come near the baby. Instead, make it a point to include them in baby things. Let them kiss the baby, hold the baby (with your help of course), have them hand you wipes when you change the baby. Remind your older child how important they are as the big brother/sister and how appreciative you are for them help. And make a big deal out of it any time they try to help (even if it isn’t really that helpful and creates more of a mess), “Oh my goodness, honey, I could not have done this without your help, thank you so much!”Look for ways they can help you too, like putting laundry in the basket or throwing diapers away. If they aren’t in the mood to help, don’t push the subject.

Adding Another Baby Issue #5: Dealing With Sibling Jealousy

I was terrified that Bug was going to be jealous of Bean and try to show his jealousy through hitting or acting out. Sure enough, immediately after we brought Bean home, he started acting nuts. No, I take that back, he started acting nuts while we were still in the hospital. My guess is that it was a mix of excitement and jealousy over this new little person who was taking everyone’s attention, but Bug acted like I had never seen him act before. He was screaming, running, and not listening. He was aggressive and defiant. He was a handful. The thing I didn’t expect was that he was mean to me, not to Bean. He hit me, he spat at me, for a time, he acted like I was the worst person he had ever met. It made me so sad.

Solution:

The most important thing we did in dealing with sibling jealousy was to recognize that his actions were directly a result of Bean’s birth. While he did go to timeout for things that required timeouts, and he was scolded for other actions, we were slightly more lenient on him (both from sleep deprivation and because we understood how he was feeling). To deal with his jealousy, we spent more time with him. I made a concerted effort to spend one-on-one time with Bug while someone else took care of Bean. My dad stayed with us off and on for a couple of weeks to help out, and the time he spent taking Bug to McDonald’s or the Children’s Museum helped immensely as well. Turk would get home from work, say hello and kiss Bean and me, and grab Bug to wrestle with him, one of Bug’s favorite Daddy games. In the end, the jealousy only lasted a few weeks before he got over it.

Adding Another Baby Issue #6: Your Marriage

I don’t know if this happened with anyone else, but after Turk and I had Bug, we had a while where our relationship was a bit strained. Not that we ever spoke the “D” word, but we found ourselves bickering and arguing over the dumbest things, mostly related to parenting and taking care of our new baby. This, along with me not wanting him to touch me, let alone have sex, led to some unexpected tension between us. Your marriage still isn’t baby proof when #2 comes along, but fortunately, the adjustment will be easier.

Solution:

Talk, talk, talk. Tell your spouse how you’re feeling, if you’re stressed, if you think you might have PPD or the Baby Blues. Tell him that you still love him so much, even if you don’t quite feel up to having sex yet. Tell him what you need from him, don’t make him guess. Say, “Honey, I know you want to do other things with me, but it would make me feel so wonderful if you could just massage my shoulders,” or “Babe, I know you’re probably tired from work, but I have had a very difficult day with the baby and dealing with tantrums, is there any way you could do a load of laundry and the dishes?” Plan dates, even if it means popcorn, a movie, and a glass of wine after the kids are asleep. Just don’t neglect your marriage. Here are some other tips on how to Bring Back the Romance After Your Baby Arrives.

Things to remember after your baby arrives:

• It will take time to adjust to your new life.
• It’s okay if you aren’t head-over-heels for your newborn… you will be once you get to know each other.
• If you feel like you have PPD, seek help. Your doctor is not going to take your baby away or call you a bad mom. (Don’t wait until your baby is 8 months old, like I did.)
• Don’t worry about your older child’s TV time. They’re going to watch too much TV for a while, and that’s okay.
• Don’t worry about making gourmet healthy meals. So long as you’re all fed, pizza, takeout, and grilled cheese sandwiches are A.O.K.
• Give yourself a break. It is difficult parenting more than one child. Call or email a friend who can sympathize, and vent your little heart out.
• You are NOT alone. Write “I am not alone” on a sticky note above the coffee maker, on your calendar, tattoo it on your hand, but always remind yourself that you are not alone.

***

The magic month for me was around month five after Bean was born. Suddenly, I was able to get the kids on the same nap schedule. Suddenly, Bean wasn’t so tiny and fragile and Bug could interact with her more. Suddenly, I felt like a human again. It was glorious.

I hope I didn’t scare anyone off with these things that may happen when you add another baby to your family. The truth is, that while the first few months kinda suck, the older the kids get, the more I am immensely grateful that Bug and Bean have each other. Watching them grow up together has been such an incredible blessing. They are constantly kissing each other, tickling each other, laughing, hugging, and wrestling. Sure, they get into some arguments over toys or space on Mommy’s lap, but these things are normal, and very temporary. When Bug hands Bean his last cracker and says, “Here, I share!” or when Bean snuggles her head into her brother’s shoulder when she’s sleepy, I cannot imagine life with out my beautiful children.

Congrats to your new addition, and when things get rough, just remember, “This too shall pass.” One day, we’re going to be 80 years old, sitting on rocking chairs with our great-grand babies in our laps saying, “Oh, I miss those crazy days when my kids were babies.”

Well I’ll be a monkey’s uncle… (Where the heck did that saying come from?)

Remember that lil’ ‘ol short story contest I mentioned here and here?

Remember how I said I was excited to just make the semi-finals?

And then how lucky I felt to have simply made the finals?

Know what?

I won! I placed in the contest among some seriously talented writers. Not only did I place, I won first place…

Holy crap.

I do not envy the judges who had to hem and haw over these entries. The fact that they could even come to a decision of 1st, 2nd, and 3rd was, undoubtedly a feat unto itself. If it were me, I’d probably be of no help and have everyone tie for first place.  (Note: Do not ask Lindsay to judge your writing contests.)

Honestly, I am in shock right now. I don’t want to gloat, but I still am crazy excited at this opportunity. And, I am even more excited to try another contest next year and see if I can’t improve on some of the things in my writing that could use improving.

Turk is home from work today and was here when I opened Michy’s blog that announced the winners. I immediately commenced leaping around the room and the kids copied me, Bug yelling, “I won! I won!” I hugged Turk, he congratulated me, and then he left to run some errands while I called every person on my list of contacts that I had ever mentioned this contest to.

Turk came back a while later with this:

Pretty purple flowers and a Grande Reduced Fat Eggnog Latte.

I think I married the most wonderful man alive.

Thank you again for letting me go all writing-related with my blog, and for cheering me on this past week. Yay!

First of all, about last night’s election, can I just say “WOW?”

I sat on my couch, absolutely awe struck by the elation, frustration, disappointment, and sheer excitement that I saw played out on my TV screen last night. I have watched a few elections in my day, but none of them were as super-charged as this. And rightfully so! Our first black president? Neat-o.

I must admit, I was on the edge of my seat when they announced that Obama would make an appearance at any moment. The cameras panned over the hundreds of thousands of celebrating people gathered in that Illinois park. I saw the raw emotion coming from people of every race. In the back of my mind, I worried that some psycho lunatic would go crazy and start shooting up the place. I know, not a nice thought to have at all, but it has happened before, hasn’t it?

I was the most concerned when the announcer said, “Please welcome the next first family of the United States.” This was when the mom in me came out.

Woah, they’re going to bring out his kids too? I thought, heart beginning to race. It was then, I prayed.

God, please don’t let some crazy person be there right now. Please keep the Obama family safe.

I watched as Obama, holding his daughter Sasha’s hand, walked on stage. Michelle Obama and oldest daughter Malia walked close behind.

Please keep them safe, I continued, and then, Goodness, Obama’s girls are adorable.

I was on edge the entire time the Obama family was on stage. Finally, I breathed a sigh of relief when Michelle escorted the girls offstage and Obama was left to give his acceptance speech.

Regarding Obama’s acceptance speech… I was a little disappointed. I can only imagine how exhausted Obama must have been, and maybe even a little in shock at the situation, but honestly I was hoping for a little more fire from him. A little more oomph. I must say, though, I would not want to be in Obama’s shoes. He is holding on his shoulders people of all races, representing them and speaking for them, much more so than any other president who has come before him. That is enough pressure to make me wanna crawl in a hole and suck my thumb for a week.

There were three parts of Obama’s acceptance speech that did stick with me though. The first, about the unity of our country, and how we are so much more than a nation divided:

“It’s the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled - Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America.”

Woo, I have shivers just reading that. The next thing that inspired me was how he came to this point, to winning the election, despite the fact that he was never expected to do so:

“I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didn’t start with much money or many endorsements.  Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington - it began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston.”

Finally, I had to give a silent, “You go, Obama” when he said this:

“Let us resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long… And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn - I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your President too.”

I don’t personally believe that Obama winning the election means that the world is automatically a better place. I don’t believe it will end racism. I do, however, believe that it is one step. One step toward accepting people for who they are and what they can do, not for what they look like. I am so proud to be an American today, after hearing all of the statistics about record numbers of voters coming out to make their voice heard. I am proud to raise my children in a country where you don’t have to come from a rich political background to become president; you don’t have to be a nasally old white guy to live in the White House. I’m excited for what is yet to come.

Don’t let me down, Obama, I have high hopes.

I have had this blog floating around in my head for quite some time now, unsure of when or how to post it. With the impending presidential election and the subsequent hot button issues being hashed over repeatedly, I figure now is a better time than any. I don’t intend for my blog to touch on a whole lot of controversial topics, but I feel like I need to get this out there. So, be prepared for this blog, as the subjects I touch on will be abortion and same-sex marriage. I think that what I’m about to say may surprise even my closest friends!

Alright, let’s just get this out there: I am Pro-Choice.*

Allow me to explain the purpose behind the asterisk.

As for myself, my morals, and my beliefs, I am Pro-Life. I cannot fathom a situation where I would choose to abort my child. I know what a blessing children are, and I am in a stable, loving relationship where I know I can nurture and raise wonderful children. For me, abortion is not okay. For me, it is killing a life. The second I saw each of my little baby’s heartbeats on that ultrasound, I knew that life existed long before a baby was even shaped. For me, I am Pro-Life.

But it is not up to me, or anyone else to tell a woman what is right for her. It is not up to the government to tell a woman who has been the victim of rape or incest that she must carry that child to term. It is not up to the government to decide what actions a woman takes with her body.

I know a handful of women who have had abortions. I also know that they grieve the loss of their child even decades later. I know that they wonder constantly, “What if.” If you are willing to have an abortion, you have to also be willing to live with the “What ifs” that will plague you for the rest of your life. But ultimately, that is the woman’s decision. Not mine, not yours, not the government. As far as the government’s involvement in a woman’s body is concerned, I am very much Pro-Choice.

Okay, that wasn’t so bad, was it? On to the next topic.

I am For Same-Sex Marriage*

Again, with an asterisk.

For me, for myself, my morals, my beliefs, I would not marry a woman. But who am I to decide that it isn’t okay for two people who love each other to get married? People constantly bring up the Bible in this situation and claim that a union between two same-sex individuals is wrong. Maybe so. But doesn’t the Bible also say in Matthew 7:1, “Do not judge, or you will be judged?” Who am I to judge a gay couple? Where do I get off acting like I am better than them because I’m heterosexual? As far as I’m concerned, homosexuality and same-sex marriage is between those individuals and God. God never asked me to point fingers or blame. As a matter of fact, I think He said quite the opposite when He said in the Ten Commandments, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Not only did He place this Commandment in His list of rules to live by, He also said to love your neighbor was one of the absolute most important of all of the Commandments (second only to “love the Lord”)! God didn’t say, “Love your neighbors as yourself… unless they’re gay.” Nor did he say, “Love your neighbors as yourself… unless they don’t act the way you think they should.” No. He just said to love them, because He loves them.

—-

It’s funny to me, when I get into conversations about gay marriage or abortion with fellow moms, they assume certain things about me. It is assumed that because I am a married woman, a Christian, and a mother, that I am against abortion and gay marriage. What’s interesting to me is that these factors in my life have made me even more open minded to gay marriage and abortion. Being pregnant is hard, giving birth sucks, and I couldn’t imagine being forced to decide whether I should keep my child or give it up for adoption. So, if a woman feels that her only choice is to abort her baby, then let her do it. Chances are, she’ll learn a lot about herself afterward and realize exactly what it means to have to live with such a serious decision. And as far as same-sex marriage? Some of the coolest, most generous, and loving people I know just so happen to be homosexual. What the heck is wrong with adding more love to the world, where there is otherwise so much hurt?

There’s my two cents on those hot topics. I’d love to hear your points of view. No judgment here, whether you believe strongly one way or another. I realize that my views are slightly contradictory, but that’s just the way I am.

Ever since I jumped into this “Motherhood” thing, there is one thing that has baffled me, and continues to baffle me to this day.

It isn’t the decision to breastfeed or not (and really, who cares as long as your baby is fed and loved).

Nor is it the decision to be a stay-at-home-mom or to work (again, who cares).

It doesn’t even have to do with hard-hitting issues like circumcision or vaccinations.

Nuh uh.

It has to do with relationships. Specifically, of the Husband and Wife kind.

I co-host a birth board on one of those mommy chat sites, and I’ve seen a lot in the way of controversy and heated issues. I have also seen posts from women where I have felt very very sorry for their children and spouses. Possibly one of the most prominent conversations in my mind dealt with co-sleeping.

The woman on this co-sleeping chat admitted that her children still slept in bed with herself and her husband. Admittedly, I don’t remember their exact ages, but I believe it was something like 6 and 3. What disturbed me most about this lady’s admission was that she mentioned very explicitly that her husband disagreed with co-sleeping and was quite unhappy with their sleeping arrangement. Her response to him was essentially, “Tough cookies. The kids are more important.”

Does anyone else see anything wrong with this scenario?

Now, I will admit, I have co-slept with my children. When babies are newborn, keeping your boob monster nearby is often all you can do to get a few minutes of uninterrupted sleep. Then, of course, there are times when they get older and they have a bad dream or wake up early and curl into bed with you. I get that. I live with that. What I don’t get, what baffles me more than anything in life, is choosing your children over your otherwise healthy, loving relationship with your spouse.

Do women not realize that once the kids are grown and gone that they’re still (hopefully) going to be married to their husband? Don’t they realize that if they stop talking to them, stop taking their feelings and thoughts to heart, that they are also going to stop growing in their relationship? Most importantly, don’t these people (mostly women) know that the single most important people in their kids’ lives are their parents? And that kids want their parents together and happy, not co-habitating and miserable?

Keeping the love alive after you have kids is really freaking hard. It’s hard to get it on when your baby is curled up next to you in a bassinet or even knowing that they’re in the room next to yours.

(Funny side story: Turk and I were having some *ahem* “time” together and forgot to lock the door. I heard Bug opening the door and, being the genius I am, I hid underneath the covers . When I realized he wasn’t going to leave the room, I emerged from my hiding spot. Bug’s face lit up and he asked, “I hide too?” while attempting to lift the covers. Turk and I both yelled “No!” and Bug ran out of the room.)

It’s hard to find time in your busy day of endless laundry and spit-up to feel like looking sexy. And, when given the option, my guess is that you’d easily choose nap over a shower on most days. But, no matter how tough it is, taking the time now to nurture and expand your marriage will only make things easier down the road. Maybe then, when you’re celebrating your 30 year anniversary, you can look back on those times when your kids almost caught you bumping uglies and giggle about it. My hope is that then, you’ll realize that you’re still in love all those years and babies later.

Here’s an article I wrote with tips on bringing back romance after baby. I hope you enjoy it!

http://www.ehow.com/how_4561448_back-romance-after-baby-arrives.html

Love each other. The more you do it, the easier it gets, and the easier the hard times will be.