The Words I'll Never Use In Friendship Again

I don't love the phrase best friend.

I loathe it actually.  And not just the phrase best friend but really, any words that associate with it.

Bestie. BFF. Best Mate. Sista' From Another Mista'.  I want to do away with them all. 

Now, before you begin to pelt your computer screen with all of the pink and red Valentine's M & M's that you've been hoarding for your toddler's nap time, please just hear me out. 

Last year my daughter started Kindergarten.  Now, for anyone who has ever met Mack, you know that the girl is special.  And not like, eat paste, type special.  Mackenzie loves people.  She's got a huge heart and she's uniquely compassionate for a 6-year-old. 

At Mackenzie's Kindergarten orientation she met a little girl who I'll call Olivia.  Now, Olivia was a flippin' mess that night -- crying big, ugly tears.  We encouraged Mackenzie to make a new friend. We coaxed her to talk Olivia and to tell her that it was okay to be a little scared.

Three days later, Mackenzie and Olivia walked into school hand in hand for their first day of Kindergarten.  Not a tear in sight.  It was one of my proudest momma moments to date.  In Mackenzie's mind, that moment sealed the deal for something special.  Olivia was it.  Her very best friend. And there wasn't a darn thing you were going to say to change her mind. 

That was September.  By October the drama had begun.  Mackenzie would come home from school in tears every other day with stories of how Olivia would say she was her best friend but then refuse to sit with her at lunch.  Or, Olivia would play with her at recess but then brag about having another friend over for a playdate.  Every day it was something new. 

Now, please hear me -- I don't for one second believe my daughter is perfect.  We have had our fair share of conversations about how to treat our friends right. Mackenzie is still learning, as am I.

What finally did it for me was the day that Mackenzie climbed into the car after school and through crocodile tears she asked, "Momma, why doesn't she love me?  She was suppose to be my best friend."  My momma heart just broke into a thousand pieces.  My girl.  My beautiful, funny, smart, kind and compassionate girl, was questioning her value and worth as a friend. 

The phrase Best Friend is a powerful one.  There's a whole lot of weight packed into two small words. 

To the person you are calling your best friend, there's a lot of pressure to live up to the meaning.  To be the best.  The one who won't let down and won't hurt you.  The one who will have your back no matter what.  The one who is better than all other friends.

For your friends who haven't attained best friend status, these words are a breeding ground for insecurity and for not feeling good enough.  To know there's a best friend card on the table but that you haven't quite earned it. Good heavens, ouch!

Earlier this year I attended an event with a group of friends.  It was a fantastic weekend complete with one of those photo props that came with the goofy hats and feather boas for posing.  Two friends in particular claimed bestie status from the start of the event.  And to be frankly honest, they made the picture taking part of the weekend incredibly awkward.  What was suppose to be fun and carefree turned into an exclusivity party. 

While I stood back with several newer friends, these two girls repeatedly asked others to take their picture while they did the whole, "Say cheese!" thing. Only, they replaced "cheese" with "bestie". 

So, "Say Bestie!"  Weird, I know.

That was the weekend I decided that I will officially never use the phrase best friends again.  And as a momma, I will encourage my daughter to steer clear from this phrase as well in her friendships.

Now, I would be bold faced lying if I said that all friendships are equal.  Not all friendships are equal.  There, I said it.  I just don't quite understand the benefit of shouting friendship inequality from the rooftops.

Sometimes within a friendship, it's okay to sense a special connection with someone and for it to remain a secret, silent one.  It's okay to exchange knowing smiles and to have a mutual understanding that you've got something different and special.  I have a few of these friendships and I'm thankful for them.

What's not okay is to use those special friendships to make other others feel less than.

My greatest desire is for the women I do life with to leave my presence feeling loved, encouraged and empowered.  As a momma, I hope that I can teach my daughter that friendship is a gift and to treat it as such.  I desire for her to grow, knowing that while not all friendships are equal -- all friendships do have value and are worthy of respect and great care. 

 

I propose that one of the best ways to care for the heart of a friend is to make sure that she never has to question her status on your friendship podium or have to wonder whether she would be picked last for your friend dodge ball team.  She should just know in her heart that she's got a place on the stand and a spot on the team.

To all of my girlfriends out there, you should know that you don't need a best, bestie or BFF attached to your name.  Each of you has uniquely added to my life in some way, shape and form.  I am blessed by you and I value your friendship for the uniqueness that you bring to my life and not because you do it better or worse than any other friend.  You are incredibly loved. 

For my Mini Me

This morning we sat, smushed together on that comfy brown couch hidden down in the basement.  Our cold toes were touching and our arms intertwined and wrapped together in funny angles.  I held my coffee in one hand and you in my other. I could feel your hot breath on my cheek and your messy blonde ringlets invaded my space.  

But I didn't mind. All I could think about was how far we've come.  How you've become my very best companion.  How every word, every smile, every moment with you is making up for lost time. And then, all of a sudden you leaned in closer and pressed your tiny lips to my bare shoulder as if you were reading my mind.  You didn't have to look at me or say a word.  That little kiss was enough.  It's as if you knew my heart at that very moment.  And I believe that you do.  

Someday, I'm going to tell you our story.  I'm going to tell you about all of the good and the bad and the everything in between that you and I went through to get to this place.  And I'm going to tell you that you were born to heal me.  Because more than ever, I believe that.  I believe that before you, I was afraid to love and to be loved.  Before you and even after you, my heart was hurting.  But there's something about this journey you and I have gone on together.  This journey has taught me that to really, deeply love someone, you have to be willing to endure the pain of pain. To endure and learn from it so that you can live and love freely in the future.  

A very important person in my life once told me to take out a picture of myself as a little girl.  To look at that picture and to tell the little girl in that picture, "You are good enough." "You are worth enough." "You have value." And I thought about this idea.  And after thinking for a while, I realized that I don't need that picture of me as a little girl.  You are that little girl for me.  

God gave me a mini-me.  There's a reason that you have the same blonde mop, big blue eyes and tiny squirmish frame that I did when I was three. There's a reason you love art and running and old people just like me. And no, I'm not going to chalk it up to genetics.  I have a mini-me, because God in His perfect wisdom knew that I needed to heal and that the only way to heal the right way was to do it through learning to love.  

And that's what this has been for you and I.  A journey of learning how to love. That moment we had this morning, it wasn't just a moment.  It was a photograph in time, where I can look at the "us" we've become and see how I've learned to love you and how I've learned to love myself.  There was a point in time when I didn't know either was possible.  There was a time when I looked at you and thought "I can't do this.  I wasn't meant to do this."  And now my sweet girl, I know that both are possible. And I look at you and I think, "I can!"

A very special thanks to Heather over at The Extraordinary Ordinary for giving me the inspiration I needed to write this post.  From one momma to another, you are amazing.

Just The Three Of Us

As I've written before in some of my more serious "momma posts", I began this blog mainly to be a voice for mommas who are afraid to admit that life isn't so perfect. The daydream that  you had as a little girl (you know, the one where you blissfully hold hands with your prince charming, while pushing your smiley baby in a stroller through the park), may happen every once in a while, but it isn't every day life.  I spend my days as a mom, picking up stray cheerios, wiping runny noses, painting toenails sparkly pink and searching for a tattered, blue elephant we affectionately call "Ted".  This is my life.  It isn't perfect and some days I have to be intentional about discovering the hidden blessings in between all of the seemingly mundane moments.  So here's my "my life isn't so perfect" spill for the week...

I've spent the past several months doing some soul searching.  Our little girl will turn three-years-old this July. Friends and family and (oh, heck) even perfect strangers have begun to question, "When are you going to have another one?"  Often when I am asked this question, I respond, "Never..." Then I stare blankly just to see what kind of a response I'll get.  Sometimes I respond with, "I like my sleep too much." "I enjoy that I'm past the baby stage." "I would love to travel more, yadah, yadah, yadah..." All valid concerns, 

but let's be honest... superficial none-the-less.  

The real truth: I want to want another baby.  I love the idea of filling up more bedrooms and of giving my little girl the baby brother she keeps asking for.  I would love to add another toe headed child to our family photos.  I want to want this more than anything. 

What many on the outside don't realize is that bringing a new baby into our home would likely come at a cost.  I don't just mean the normal "sleep deprived, money is tighter, I'm 20 lbs above my pre-pregnancy weight" cost.  I'm saying that the first time around, postpartum depression nearly destroyed me.  It took a huge toll on our marriage and it ruined many of my friendships. And the worst was that our baby girl didn't experience her momma like she deserved for over a year.  

In hindsight, I can see that I was very lucky.  My husband was a rock through my worst of worst days. And, although I would give anything to get the bonding time back with our daughter, she was so young that she was spared the gist of it .  I lost friendships but I've repaired some of them and created new ones in the meantime.  

I was and am beyond blessed. 

I am stronger and I am wiser because of having been through PPD.

I have a compassion and appreciation for other moms that I couldn't have had. 

I see my life through a new lens...one that is filled with grace, redemption and forgiveness.  

However, even having come through and learned all of this- it doesn't mean that I ever want to face the demon of PPD again. When I look back at that time in our lives I relive a darkness that I never ever desire to meet again.

I've been so grateful for the women in my life who have stepped up and walked beside me as I've gone through this process of sorting out where we take our family next.  Countless friends have said, "I'm not going anywhere and I'll walk with you if you have to face this again."  It is these friends that have made me feel like having another baby someday just might be okay. And so, as one suggested, I've been lifting my family up in prayer.  I've been asking for the desire to have another baby someday.  Right now, I honestly don't have it.  Right now, I'm overcome with fear and anxiety about how bringing another baby into this world would affect my little girl and my husband and of course me. This is where I am right now.

I write all of this for a few reasons. 

The first reason: I know I am not the only other momma out there who has walked this road.  I know I'm not the only other woman who has journeyed through PPD and then gone on to struggle with wanting (or not wanting) a bigger family.  And yet, some days I do feel utterly alone.  When I am at play group and the mom sitting across from me just had her first baby a year ago and is already pregnant with her second....yeah, I feel alone. When I hear of friends who were pregnant along with me three years ago, and are already two kids ahead of me and on to their third baby. Yes, I feel alone. So here I am saying it.  For anyone out there who stumbles upon this blog and can identify with anything I have written... you aren't alone.  I feel it too sister.

The second reason: I know there are those out there who look at me with judgement and can't fathom why I wouldn't want to bring  a second baby into our home. Honestly, this is the most frustrating lecture to get from family, friends, fellow employees, little old lady at the grocery store...

You haven't walked in my shoes.  You haven't held my hand along this journey.  You look in from the outside and you don't have a clue.  So please, refrain from judging me.  Instead of believing that I could be making a mistake by not further procreating, please choose to look at the little family I have now as beautiful.  And if this is all I ever have, this little family of 3 (and an outrageously furry cat), then I will love my life. And, I will always think my family is beautiful.

Let's Get Real

A week ago I had coffee with a new friend and was greatly challenged by the conversation that took place.  As we talked and shared about our lives- what they are and what we hope them to be, we somehow got onto the topic of blogging.  She mentioned something that I've been feeling for quite some time.  

Tonight, I'm going to address "mommy bloggers". 

Maybe you've stumbled upon the "mommy blogs".  Not all are bad.  Many can be great.  My friend spoke to me specifically of the "mommy blogs" that aim to be seen as so perfect that the moms that read them come away feeling inadequate.  I laughed when my new friend stated, "I'm not even a mom and I come away feeling inadequate after reading them." 

Can anyone out there relate?  I sure can.   I love to browse blogs.  I love the creativity and ideas that come from them.  What I don't love is the lack of realness that I feel many bloggers out there share (or lack to share).  

I'll be the very first person to admit that I struggle with some real insecurities.  Do I like to share those insecurities?  Heck, no.  I like to look perfect.  I like others to look at me and believe I've got it all together.  But I'm writing tonight to share that (surprise, surprise) - I don't.  

When I began this blog several months ago, I began it for several reasons.  One reason was my love for writing.  I've been told I can be funny and have a good way with words.   Another was because I was desiring to have a part of my life that wasn't strictly "kid related".  As a mom, I struggle to separate the parts of my life that are kid vs. adult.  Blogging about things I am passionate or excited about seemed like a great way to do that.  With that said, these reasons weren't primarily why I began my blog. 

 I began my blog because I wanted to be a voice for women and moms out there who need to know that it is okay to have some imperfections.  I wanted to write something that would be real, open and honest with a journey that doesn't always go as planned.  And, as I talked with my friend, I was challenged and guilt ridden over the fact that maybe just maybe I haven't exactly done what I had set out to do.

Do I think it is wrong to share all of the great parts of life? Not at all.  I find joy in posting about my child's successes, the high points in our life as a family.  I love to post fun things that I've made, recipes that we enjoy together, birthday celebrations for our cat (and kid).  These are good things.  These are the blessings of day to day life.  What I don't like, is when these every day blessings of life seem to overshadow the fact that we are real people who need others to come along and say, "Hey, it's okay to make mistakes."  It's okay that your child isn't sleeping through the night.  It's okay that potty training has been hell.  It's okay that you didn't shower today and you spent half the day eating raw cookie dough while watching Barney with your toddler.  IT IS OKAY.  

And so, If you've stuck with me this long...I'm here to apologize.  I'm deeply sorry if I have made any of my readers feel inadequate (mom or no mom).  Over the course of my journey during the past year, I've come to see that God gives us women in our lives to come along side and walk with us during the good times and the bad.  The problem becomes, when we are so frightened to open up about the bad that the friendship never becomes real.  I'm so tired of that old way of life.  I'm learning to let go of the unrealistic expectations I have of myself and the ones that others may have of me too.  I'm not perfect.  Neither are YOU. So let's get real.

So this is me being honest and real.  Before my daughter came along, I thought I was happy.  My husband and I wanted to try for a baby.  We tried.  We got pregnant right away.  I became pregnant and barefoot (literally- I went barefoot to one of my baby showers).  Then when Mack was a week old, I was hit with postpartum depression.  I suddenly didn't want to be a mom. I didn't like this new baby that had taken over our lives.  Everything that I thought I wanted was gone. Instead, I had this new stranger living in my home- and a not so polite and pleasant one I might add.  And I struggled silently like this for over a year. I struggled with thoughts of suicide and of leaving my family. I was so scared to share with other moms exactly how I was feeling.  I didn't even tell my own mom how I was feeling.  I kept it all hidden and I did myself and everyone around me a disservice.  

Two years later, what I know now is this--postpartum depression is real.  It is painful and sad and can destroy families and friendships.  What I know now is that it can be treated and helped. A lot of what it stems from can be emotionally related things that were never taken care of (pre-pregnancy).  Last October (after moving here to Colorado) I finally hit rock bottom.  I was diagnosed by a doctor as severely depressed and for the first time throughout this whole journey I was put on anti-depressants (sorry Tom Cruise).  I also began to see an amazing therapist who has helped me to come to grips with a lot of issues I was facing (both mom and non-mom related).  And today, I can finally say that, emotionally I am the healthiest I have ever been.  

This journey has brought me to a place where I can better see the benefits of being honest with friends about where I am.  I am learning to ask for help when I need it. I am finally learning to love myself and to value who I am first and foremost as a person but also as a wife and a mother.  Most importantly, I am learning to be real.  I hope that I can share that with all of you as I continue this blog.  If nothing else, I hope that as I am honest with my journey, other women and mom readers out there will be reminded that sometimes, life just isn't cookie cutter.  

With all of that said-- Here are some pictures of the happenings that have taken place lately in my life.

I've been training for the Washington DC marathon and today I completed my first of two 20 mile runs.  Parts of it felt like hell.  Other parts, like the ones in these pictures were just miraculous reminders of how beautiful Colorado is.  For the first time today in a long time, I didn't miss Chicago so much.  That is a milestone friends!

I've started to crochet hats and am considering an ETSY site.  I made this particular hat to more feminize Mackenzie's bright red (rather masculine looking) winter coat.  Who says girls always have to wear pink??

My Little Fashionista

Everything about this I love.  The glasses, the oversized coffee mug, the tattered blue elephant.  Mostly I love that she's mine.

Insomnia Is A Funny Thing

Insomnia is a funny thing.  Occasionally JB wakes up around 3 am for an opening work shift and most of these occasions I find myself wide awake in bed.  So what do I do?  Well, I would like to say that I spend these awake hours pondering how I can play a role in ending world hunger or advocating peace. But instead, usually I toss and turn for an hour or so, listening for the sound of our toddler and any stirring noises she might make.  I often have mini panic attacks as I lay here, convinced that I have heard her awake and that any luck of actually going back to sleep has gone out the window.  Last time time this happened I found myself shopping for shoes at 3 am.  This morning I found myself wide awake in our dining room working on our memory wall and contemplating what I can create for the Pinterest Challenge And so, here it is 5 am... and I'm still wide awake.  I figure that since it's August now, I might as well finish post on Mack's birthday party so that I can actually move on to my next post.  


Last month we celebrated Mack's 2nd birthday with a "4th of July" themed extravaganza. In hindsight I realize that Mack would have been satisfied with eating cake for breakfast and being told that the day was all about about her.  Technically we didn't have to throw a big blowout that ensued chaos on our tiny apartment.  And we probably shouldn't have. Will I do it again next year?  Ahhh, yes....probably so. I never really learn my lesson.

In short, here's how the day went down...

Our birthday girl woke up and had her ice cream cone cake for breakfast.  

She was thrilled and loved every bit of the attention as we sang her happy  birthday.

I found the t-shirt that she is wearing on clearance at the GAP a few months ago and was thrilled because two of Mack's favorites things are cupcakes and her kitty.

Party Time

We planned for M's party to take place at a small park not too far from our apartment.  We had been forewarned by every weatherman in town that we risked being caught in a torrential downpour.  We kept this warning in the back of our minds but decided to risk it anyways.  Probably not the best idea.

Big and little guests began to arrive.

This was right about the time that we decided to switch to Plan B and direct all of our guests to their cars.  We wrangled children like nobody's business. Within 20 minutes we had a home full of people and (like the weathermen predicted) a torrential downpour.

And so, 27 amazingly good spirited guests ended up crammed into our tiny home.

We played, ate cake and loved on this little girl.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to all of our family and friends who made her day so incredibly special. We were beyond blessed.

From here...

 

To 3 Months...

1 Year....

To 2 years.  It's hard to believe we're here already.

We love you Mackenzie Leigh!  

Happy 2nd birthday to the little girl who keeps stealing our hearts.

Happy 1st Birthday Belmont!

For those of you who are unfamiliar with who Belmont is, check out my storybook characters post.  It will tell you everything you need to know.  And, after you read about Belmont you may think that we are one of those crazy "treat your pet like a human" families. I promise we really aren't that family.  

We wanted to celebrate Belmont's birthday mainly so that we could begin to get Mack excited about her own big birthday celebration that is coming up in a few weeks.  JB and I thought that this would be a fun way to celebrate Belmont 
while also teaching Mack a little more about celebrating life
...and presents, treats and candles.  

So, last night after putting Mack to bed I slaved in the kitchen, poking and prodding at cookie dough attempting to create "Belmont" face cookies.  After configuring my first kitty head out of cookie dough, I popped my pan into the oven.  
Ten minutes later to my horror, this is what I found.

Not quite what I had in mind.  

Luckily, some restructuring of the "Hello Kitty like" ears 
finally brought me to these.

I thought they turned out decent.  Enough so that Mack was appalled when we suggested tonight at Belmont's party that she take a bit out of her kitty head.

Now, on to the celebration...

Pre-Party Pictures!

Clearly, Belmont is thrilled to be present at his party 
and wearing his 1st birthday hat.  This was after we chased him around the house for ten minutes trying to tackle him to put on the hat.  Like I said...clearly thrilled.

Eating his birthday present while Mack 

watches enviously hoping to blow out his single candle.

We love you Belmont!  

Happy 1st birthday to our little man. 

And yes, I realize that now I do in fact sound like a crazy cat person.

A Picture Perfect Day

Mack and I packed our day today with fun in the sun. 

We spent several hours at the park where I relentlessly tried to snap photos of her smiling or just being still...anything that wasn't blurry.  Here were our best shots.  

My serious girl.

Scarfing down her Scooby Snacks.

And the best one of the day--

Being chased by geese.  

This was right before I snatched her up myself and ran screaming bloody murder.  

It was necessary, we were surrounded by dozens of hungry geese and

...we were out of food. 

I will be the first to admit that being a mom has not been the easiest ride for me.  

But, these last few months have been so rewarding as 

I have watched my little girl blossom into a sweet and caring little being.  

I am loving everything about this stage of mommyhood.  

Most days I wish I could freeze time and make her stay this little forever.

Potty Training Turned Ugly

You know on tv, or in the movies, when a poor unsuspecting soul is suddenly slammed in the face with a giant cream pie leaving them covered in whipped cream and looking completely dumbfounded?  Well, our twenty-three-month old has creamed us yet again.  Metaphorically speaking that is.


Mack has been strong willed and stubborn since the beginning of her existence.  And, although I ultimately believe that these two traits will help to make her successful later in life, they have consequently made some (or most) of our parenting experiences thus far seem like we are on the losing end of a tug of war challenge-- being won by a blonde haired, blue eyed dwarf.


Let me start at the beginning. At 30 weeks when we went in for our 3D ultrasound, our tech told us that our daughter was in the perfect position for birth.  She was head down and ready for delivery.  Fast forward to a month later and we find ourselves bewildered as our OBGYN tells us that she is now breach and chilling out in a pike position (butt down and feet up...like she's lounging on the beach).  Turkey.  This turn of events brought us two weeks later back to the hospital to attempt the version procedure-- an expensive way of saying, "We'll move her if she won't move herself. " Surely this would work.  Nada.  Instead, we found ourselves seconds from being rushed to to an operating room for an emergency c-section.  Each time our doctors attempted to move her she would flip back into her pike position and her fetal heart rate would plummet.  Stubborn, stubborn child.


Fast forward to her first year of life.  Breastfeeding was a nightmare.  After 6 weeks of battle  and a hospital stay later we waved the white flag of surrender.  Her digestion problems (to put it eloquently) showed up at 2 weeks old and have stuck around since.  Surely she had to give us some points somewhere.  Maybe in the sleeping department?  Naaah.  While other new momma friends had babies sleeping through the night by 3 months or 6 months, our daughter was up nearly every night for her first full year of life.  And yes, we tried the "cry it out" method.  At least twice. She wasn't having any of it.  


At fourteen months we finally decided to switch her from a bottle to a sippy cup.  When she realized that her "baaa" wasn't being offered anymore she decided to boycott liquids of all form and we spent a week stressing over whether or not she was going to dehydrate herself.  At eighteen months she finally picked up a sippy cup on her own, and hasn't put one down since.  And to prove her point, she continues to this day to call any and all liquids "baaaa".  
Also right around eighteen months she decided to boycott food.  This has led now to a seemingly never ending battle in trying to keep the weight up on an already thin child.  


My point is this--our daughter has a mind of her own.  She knows what she wants and won't accept anything less. So why in heaven's name did we think potty training would be any different?  Just when we thought she might actually send an easy parenting experience our way...Pie. In. The. Face.  


Last week I made the mistake of announcing to you all the Mack was successfully potty training.  And it did go well--for all of four days.  And then the novelty wore off and instead of our daughter running eagerly to the potty throughout the day, she began to slam the bathroom door in our face and then pee on the floor.  And so here we are again.  + 1 for dwarf,  -1 for mom and dad and the little green potty.  Yet another win for our strong willed child.  God love her.  


So for now, we have halted all potty training and have decided that until she becomes interested again we won't force the issue.  Personally, I like my bathroom floor urine free. We'll continue to cloth diaper and hope for a more successful go around sometime this summer.  With our luck it will probably be more like a fourth go around. Stay tuned.  Any advice out there for parents who have run into a regress in potty training would be much welcomed!

Potty Training 101

We've entered the world of potty training.  I'm really now sure how we got here so quickly.  I hadn't planned on trying to potty train until later this summer.  But, somehow here I am with my 23-month-old dragging me by the hand so she can sit on her little green potty multiple times a day.  I'm not in any way complaining.  Heck, this kid has been a piece of work to parent so far.  This morning JB and I exchanged looks and questioned to one another, "It can't really be this easy...can it?"  I will update as this new phase continues and I'm sure I will have questions that need answered.  For now, I am counting my  blessings!