Staying At Home

My Canadian mommy friend wrote this about being a working mother. She likes to stir it up, that one. It made me think about my beliefs about "stay-at-home-mothering." Let's see, I think I lasted 6 months "at home" before I started climbing the walls and began my own business.

Frankly, everyone seems to have a strong opinion about stay-at-home vs. working mothers. I've been called a "breeder" by a little snot that thought her work-out routine was more important than children. I've been questioned by truly curious women that wonder if life will be over once motherhood enters their life, (totally fair.) I've also been told by a few that "a woman's place is in the home." Well, hallelujah...

I'm confused.

My philosophy: I don't want to miss my "momma season" with my son. But, I know I'll enjoy it more and do it better if my life is balanced. My big, deep philosophy: Balance. I don't think my world should ever revolve solely around kids. Nor do I believe it should revolve solely around career, money, church, fun, my husband, my family or myself.

How about a balance of all of them?

And....can't we all just get along?!?!

A Princess Story

I would never tell a bright-eyed princess this; but it's totally true. And I laughed till I cried:



*via Sarah @ http://www.emergingmummy.com/

Fishin'

My Dad never had sons. He swears that he loved having two girls, but I feel a little bad that my Dad had 18 years of princesses, Barbies, ballet, pink, make-up, PMS and overall girl drama.

I feel that I've atoned for my girliness by giving him a grandbaby that is ALL boy. In fact, the first thing Dad bought him, at the tender age of 3 months, was a Spiderman fishing pole. Fishing hadn't really worked out with me and my sister, but he was optimistic it would workout with his grandson.

That pole has been put in his closet for 2 1/2 years, and we finally broke it out for a lake trip. I was told I was to be there for diaper changing and photo taking, but to make myself scarce.

There was man time to be had...

Mooched Mommy Idea #6: The 4 o'clock Clean-Up

I take great offense to untidiness and dirt in my home. And, ever since he came along:



I've obviously had to get over that.

My fabulous Aunt Kathy gave me her top-secret trick: The 4 o'clock Clean-up.

After listening to me obsess about how I cleaned the house ALL DAY LONG, she told me that she only cleaned once a day when her kiddos were little. She said, "you want to live in your house, that's what it's for."

Her plan: At 4 o'clock, everyone cleans up the entire house together. That way, you can have a tidy home at the end of your day, and the kiddos can play all day unfettered. That philosophy has freed me to enjoy the chaos, laugh with my busy boy and clean like a crazy woman only once per day.

Aunt Kathy, my son and my sanity thank you...

A Good Kick in the Butt

Jesus said whatever you do to the least of these my brothers you’ve done it to me. And this is what I’ve come to think. That if I want to identify fully with Jesus Christ, who I claim to be my savior and Lord, the best way that I can do that is to identify with the poor. This I know will go against the teachings of all the popular evangelical preachers. But they’re just wrong. They’re not bad, they’re just wrong. Christianity is not about building an absolutely secure little niche in the world where you can live with your perfect little wife and your perfect little children in a beautiful little house where you have no gays or minority groups anywhere near you. Christianity is about learning to love like Jesus loved and Jesus loved the poor and Jesus loved the broken....

-Rich Mullins

Laundry Day

No matter how many piles of laundry I have...

No matter how many clothes I have to fold...

I will not complain.


Meet my lovely friend Alisha, and her washing machine at her new home in Africa:





The fact that she is able to smile about this situation can only be because:

1. The newlywed glow has overpowered all appliance inconveniences.
2. The sun in Kenya has gone to her head.
3. She is a better wife/Christian/homemaker than me.

It might be all of the above; with heavy emphasis on #3. Until then, I will continue to miss my African domestic goddess. And I will hug my washing machine.

Love me some perspective.

The Pregnancy Thigh Master

I took this picture last summer to inspire me to tone my legs. Meet my friend, Kristen, and her perfect legs:



Kristen and her legs just launched a DVD series for pregnant women. It's called PregoFit, and it's fabulous.

If I had this DVD series when I was preggers, then perhaps I would have been much less mushy at the end of my 9-month-plight. I might have felt better and had all of my ribs stay in place. Perhaps I would have hidden less Twinkies in my underwear drawer.

One never knows.

I do know that Kristen is the real deal. Certified trainer, healthy, fabulous and walks the walk. I could not be more thrilled to recommend this series!

As soon as I have the nerve to get knocked up again, I will have my credit card ready.


I might be jealous if she wasn't so darn sweet!

The Manliness Police

I am the mother of a boy. He likes to be outside, he loves being dirty and he has no tolerance for quiet activities. I must admit, some days I have no idea what to do with him, but I don't fret. I know that if I get out of line, I have the ever-faithful Manliness Police to keep me accountable as I raise my son.

Allow me to introduce:

Officer You-Give-Him-Too-Many-Baths:

*Bought his first cowboy hat, boots, John Deere tractor and shotgun.

Officer He-Can-Drive-If-He-Wants-To:

*Bought his first fishing pole, 4-wheeler and life-sized tiger.

Officer Don't-Let-My-Nephew-Attend-Princess-Parties-Ever-Again

*Bought his first baseball, bat and Transformers t-shirt

Officer They-Are-Not-Panties-They-Are-UNDIES

*Bought his first superhero t-shirt, toy cars and remote control.

This group of ever-vigilant watchdogs works tirelessly to keep me in the know of all things manly. If I mess up, they are faithful with a lecture, text or phone call. When my son pees outside, shows his muscles or smells like a puppy, I know they are happy with my mothering. When my son wanted to wear a sequined barrette to Target, there is much wailing and gnashing of teeth.

My bad.

Linkage

A few fellow bloggers to inspire deep thoughts or laughter:

My Aussie friend, Rebecca, wrote this beautiful post about stopping the mommy madness to enjoy a moment. I've though about this all week.

K.C. Clifford, an amazing musician and woman, wrote this post about nurture and being authentic.

This is the greatest birth story I've ever read. I cry every single time I read it. Simply beautiful.

Dorynda makes me holler. She shares my secret addiction; don't judge us.

This is my friend, Stacy. She is the Texas-version of Martha Stewart. She is also beautiful and thin. Sigh.

And this is why I will not get a puppy. I don't care how much my son loves them.

Girl Activities

I want a little girl.

If that doesn't happen, I will continue to borrow my girlfriend's little princesses. They don't seem to mind, apparently little girls come with slightly more drama.

I did not, in any way, prompt these next pictures. It just comes naturally to my gender.









It's how we roll...

Quality Control

I've been wearing a lot of stretchy pants lately. Wedding season is over, and I apparently did too much quality-control cake sampling:













It's an important part of my job. I take it seriously. I wouldn't want anyone to have a bad buttercream experience.

My waistline has requested I return to the gym.

Traitor.

For the Mommas!

I received this card from my brother and sister-in-law. It made me cry. And then once I was done crying, I laughed at how ridiculously true it is. (If memory serves correct, on that very day I was obsessing about why my son had a runny nose for a month straight.)

And I wanted to share it because I know that most of my readers are Mommies that:

1. Worry too much
2. Work too hard
3. Forget that, despite us, our kids will turn out okay anyway




Take a deep breath, dear Mommy friends. We're gonna get through this together!

My Little, Red Engine

I've wanted one for 2 years...ever since I discovered that cooking was not the devil's punishment for wives and mothers.

Daddy Doo presented it to me for my birthday. Bless his loyal heart, he acted confident in my skills. He didn't make wisecracks about my pumpkin roll gone bad, my peppermint cake that broke teeth, the unfortunate pineapple upside-down-cake incident or my E-Z Bake disasters.

My sister tried to follow his example. But, she couldn't help but look a little concerned when she casually asked why I wanted one, (the memory of the peppermint cake is probably too vivid in her mind...)

Here's the thing: I've been watching Food Network for 3 years. I've been reading Pioneer Woman. I've been checking out cookbooks from the library. I've been quizzing my 2 mother-in-laws and begging for tips. I've been practicing.

I think I'm ready.


Hello, Lover.