Mom Guilt

To all you mom friends who are fortunate enough to stay home during the day with your children, I want to give you a SHOUT-OUT for all your hard work! But this specific post is for my Working-Outside-The-Home moms who are trying to balance a career and motherhood...

God knew what kind of mom you'd be, and still
chose to specifically place your children
in YOUR care. 

I recently had a conversation with one of my teacher friends about how her first year of teaching is going. Like most educators (or even working moms for that matter), she felt overwhelmed by everything her new career entails. That wasn’t what troubled her the most... She's struggling with Mom Guilt.

Mom Guilt – when you don’t get to spend as much QUANTITY time with your kid. And even when you try to make up for it, the time isn’t always as QUALITY as you had hoped.

If there’s one common thread that binds all us moms together, it’s MOM GUILT. 

We like to describe ourselves as nourishing, caring individuals who put our family’s needs above our own. And on most occasions, that description is quite accurate.

But then there are those times….

Those times when we have to stay a little later at work because something came up.

Those times we try to not to mentally and physically take work home so we can separate home and work life.

Those times we struggle to live in the moment because our mind races with a thousand things we need to get done.

Those times when we look at our overcrowded schedules, wondering how we’re going to fit in one more appointment, time for friends and family, and still have energy to be a rock star at work.

Those times we look into the bright eyes of the little humans we’re raising and think, “I need just 5 minutes of “me” time away from you.

Those times when we hide in the dark bedroom closet stuffing our face with potato chips in hopes that the kids will work their problems out on their own and fend for themselves for ten minutes. (Hypothetically speaking of course. 😏😉)

The point is that MOM GUILT is everywhere and affects every mother I know. 

Like my dear friend, I too struggle with it.

I’d love to be able to give my boys hours of undivided attention playing in the backyard, followed by a bath and bedtime story each evening when I get home from work. But in reality, between speech therapy and OT sessions, piano lessons, and church events, I know that won’t happen. 

Do I feel guilty about it? 

Of course I do. 

But over time, I’ve come to realize not to be so hard on myself with these things.

For all you moms out there who feel like you’re inadequately raising your child, I’m here to tell you that you’re not. 

You are ROCKING parenthood! 

Your kids are clothed, fed, and loved. Their physical and emotional needs ARE being met, even if it’s not in the way you always envision. They know that you have their backs and will be there for them always.  You’re showing them an example of a strong woman - one who supports her family and engages in selfless acts of kindness daily by spending what quality time with them you can even though you're exhausted.

This is enough.

YOU ARE ENOUGH…As a Child of God, spouse, friend, professional, citizen, and most importantly, as a mom.

YOU ARE A ROCK STAR MOM!🎸

I know that mom guilt won’t ever completely go away, but my prayer for you is that it’ll subside as you realize that your children are blessed to have you as a mom. After all, God specifically placed your children in your household, even though He knew the inner MOM GUILT struggles you’d have. 

Thus, YOU ARE ENOUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Snapshots of Joy

Unless you’ve been living under a rock most of your life, you hear sayings like:

Show of hands – when you hear these “words of wisdom”, does a little man with an angry fist inside your head scream, “Shhh!"

If not, we cannot be friends. 

(kidding.)

Seriously though, we all have issues we deal with on the daily basis. I mean, after all, that’s life, right? And the older (and I dare add ‘more mature’) that we all get, the wiser we become. We realize that life isn’t fair and that both wonderful and crummy things happen to us.

Well, the past year of my family’s life has been quite crummy to say the least. We’ve had better seasons of life, and we’ve had more tragic seasons of life. But, this has by far been the crummiest, toughest season.

For my family, the crummy season started back at the end of August 2016, when three weeks into a new school year, Jude stated having seizures. And since that August, it never really let up for what my children have endured.

As I was going through the start of this crummy season, it was easy to get burdened and depressed about the events surrounding us. One morning, I was praying over the desks of where my students sat before the school day began when a thought occurred to me...

I should find one thing each day that brings me joy, 

a daily blessing of sort, 

and stop to take a 'mental Polaroid' of it in my mind.

It’s a simple revelation, I know. 

But, it’s one that became life altering for me! I began that day. 

It’s interesting how such a simple thing can really change perspective and help keep me in check.

I admit that it hasn’t always been easy. There’s been days where I think that life stinks, and I struggle to find the joys of life. 

Or days that I come back to the same 'joy Polaroid snapshot' again and again because I'm just trying to survive the day. (It’s usually a mental picture of my half-made comfy bed at the end of a long day at work.)

Over time though, what I have discovered is that more things bring me joy than I originally realized. I have never stopped to focus on the positives. It's way too easy to get absorbed in the negatives of life. I've had to train my mind to overcome these harmful, pessimistic thoughts.

It’s been close to a year since I started this mental exercise. Some of the things on my list include:

• Watching my students develop a love for literacy before my very eyes
• A word of encouragement (my love language) from an administrator
• Jude’s hugs
• Sunlight flickering through really cool trees (I have a thing for trees.)
• Jacob telling a story (He's quite animated!)
• Hitting a green light at the right time when driving
• Seeing the “full” light when I fill my car’s tank with gas

You get the picture.

As you can see, these things aren’t large by the world’s standards of “Grand Achievements” or “Lifetime Moments”, but they’re all important in their own way. They cause me to smile, breathe, and in that moment, think positively. They all have meanings behind them that I associate with the blessings I see in my everyday life.

My daily "joy Polaroid snapshots” are the sugar to life’s lemonade I’ve made with the lemons that have been thrown my way. Because as they say:

The Importance of Mental Health

I've come to realize that kids have the same feelings & struggles
adults do. Then why do we try to make them
behave as though they're perfect?

When I say the words “mental health”, what images conjure in your head?

Perhaps feelings of contentment sweep over you like a fresh breeze as you think of things that bring you peace - a yoga class, the beautiful beach on a warm day, or getting lost in a lovely melody of favorite music.

For some people, they may associate the term “mental health” with the thought of lying on an uncomfortable, ugly couch, pouring out repressed thoughts and feelings to an overpaid “shrink”.  

Me?

Well, that second response was actually mine.

Notice the word “WAS”. 

It’s not my response now though.

So what changed?

Well, my definition of "mental health" changed, all because of the journey a dear little boy had to take. A little boy whom I love dearly. My Jacob. 

Jacob’s infant and toddlerhood was ideal. Jason and I spent lots of time and money invested in him, as he was our ‘miracle child’ after our daughter’s death. (I shared a little of her story in the last entry, The Power of Friendship.)

Jason and I took Jacob to museums and zoos, exploring cities and caves, and even jetted him to Ireland on a once-in-a-lifetime family vacation when he was 3 ½. He quickly developed an extensive vocabulary, a love for music of all kinds, and an interest in books.

Everything seemed fine. 

He was happy. We were happy.

When Jacob was four years old, he started saying that he didn’t like himself, which concerned his dad and me. He seemed to have trouble with peers in preschool, and he was moodier than usual. Kindergarten seemed to get a little better for him at first, but then the same problems reoccurred.

As a parent, I was trying desperately to “fix” the problems at home. I tried more discipline by taking away screen time and loss of privileges. I tried sticker charts and reward systems. Nothing seemed to work, and by the time that first grade came around, Jacob seemed more out-of-control than he ever had.

He was having difficulty focusing in school and at home. He was argumentative, defiant, and didn’t have a good handle on his emotions. He was sad one moment, then fearful, and then joyful the next, all within a time frame of five minutes. What bothered me the most were the harsh, negative things he would say about himself.

During this time, I started thinking that I had completely failed as a mom. I even started blaming myself for how Jacob was behaving. I started the dangerous paths of “if maybes”.

“If maybe I would have been stricter, Jacob would have acted better.”

“If maybe Jacob had a better mom <<like so & so >>, then he would be a happier child.”

“Maybe I’m not meant to be a mom. What if my kid can’t ever get better?”

I finally recognized that I was at a crossroads in my parenting. So, I did the only thing I could think to do. I confronted the view I had of mental health, took a deep breath, called up a counselor, and made an appointment for Jacob.

When I met the counselor, she was definitely not the “overpaid shrink” I envisioned from my earlier description. She didn’t even own an ugly couch to lie on either. Her office was decorated with colorful rugs, inspirational quotes, and comfy chairs. She had a treasure box full of prizes, a bin with stuffed animals, and board games. And she greeted Jacob and me both with a large genuine smile.

To my surprise, talking with her didn’t cause my world to collapse. Actually, the contrary happened. Jacob started learning coping skills to deal with his anger. I started learning parenting strategies to implement. And, the counselor’s recommendations helped get the diagnosis process started for Jacob.

“DIAGNOSIS”.
That word was very tough for me to swallow at first.

No mom wants to hear that her child may have something “wrong” with him. Through the process of seeking answers, what I learned turned out to be invaluable to me, not only as a mom, but as a teacher.

I’ve always tried to show kindness and compassion to my students and their families, but found that this journey allowed me to add on a layer of empathy that wasn’t there before. It made all the difference too! I’m more confident as an educator, more understanding as a friend, stronger as a mom, and kinder as a human being in general.

I’m slowly learning not to blame myself for what Jacob went through, and continues to go through on the daily basis.

So, what about Jacob’s mental health now?

Well, after several appointments the past few months, we finally have the diagnoses and a plan in place. 

Jacob has DMDD (Disruptive Mood Dysregulation Disorder), ADHD (impulsive/hyperactive), and Sensory Modulation Disorder.

He takes medicine for the ADHD, continues to attend individual and family counseling with us to help with the DMDD, and has started Occupational Therapy to help with the Sensory Modulation Disorder. The OT is also working with him to strengthen his core, and reinforce the coping strategies he’s learning from his counselor.

Jacob’s journey has also helped me realize the importance of mental health, and even redefine it. So now what images conjure in my mind when I think of “mental health”?

I see…

*Some medicine, but not a lot.
*A smiling counselor’s face.
*An OT’s tailored intervention sessions.
*Prayer from friends and church Small Group.
*Encouragement and support from my pastors.
*A new respect for students in the classroom setting.
*And most importantly, a little brown-headed boy, whom I love dearly, knowing that he’s loved and that he has what it takes to be successful and happy in life.

The Power of Friendship

" A friend loves at all times." Proverbs 17:17

Years ago, when I was battling infertility, my doctor sent me to have a $2,000 full blood workup at a local lab. I was living in Indianapolis at the time.

Within a week, my doctor called me with the news. The results came back to show that everything was fine, except for one small thing… a single gene mutation of a blood clotting disorder known as MTHFR. 

(If you find the acronym somewhat humorous, you’re not alone.)

MTHFR can lead to several scary, and even deadly problems concerning pregnancies. But in my case of only having a single gene mutation, I was given a simple antidote...
I only have to take one baby aspirin per day to keep my blood from clotting.

That’s it.
No medical surgeries.
No incurable situations.
A simple treatment.

Instead of being relieved that there were no major problems the overly expensive blood work indicated, I started freaking out inside my head. Sheer panic seeped in. As soon as I hung up the phone, I fell to the floor. Horrible flashbacks of me holding my beautiful deceased daughter, Hadassah, crept into my mind.

Hadassah was my first born child. Her death forever changed me.

You see, two years before Jacob was born, I had carried a beautiful little girl full term. She was my first child, and I couldn’t have been more thrilled. I had always wanted a little dark-headed girl, and finally had my wish. She was my dream come true in every way. Two days before my 37-Weeks-Along date, I was at a routine doctor visit when she stopped moving. The doctors couldn’t detect a heartbeat, and announced that she had passed away.

They induced me, and I delivered her that night. It was the most horrific feeling in the world, and one that still haunts me to this day. To try to figure out what had gone wrong, the doctors did blood work on her. They didn’t find a single thing wrong with her. She was absolutely perfect, with the exception of a small observation…

At one point in the umbilical cord, there was a “thinning” of sorts.
NOT A KNOT.
NOT a cord accident.
But the umbilical cord was just a tad bit thinner on one small section.

The doctors don’t think that caused it. But, when you’re a mom looking for answers, and feeling that you need a “why”, you’ll obsessively cling to every little detail you can gather, and ponder it for years to come.

*******

Now, flash forward to me, hunched​ over on the cold floor of my Indianapolis apartment, in a puddle of salty tears and snot, convulsively gasping for breath.  I had to get out of the apartment. But, where to go?

I grabbed my keys, jumped in my car, and fled down the road.
I knew that in my mental state of panic and heartache, I shouldn’t have been driving. But I didn’t care. 

I made it five miles down the road, turned into a friend’s driveway, and ran up to her house.  She was juggling her (at the time) four young kids. Opening the door in merriment, she greeted me, only to find a red-faced, sobbing mess. Before she could even ask what was wrong, I blurted the words, “I killed my daughter!”

"I killed my daughter!" I blurted.

Before I could say anything else, she magically had tea brewing on the stove, water in front of me, her kids playing out back, and a tissue box in front of my face.

I repeated, “It’s all my fault my daughter is dead! It’s my blood clots!” I bawled.

Hadassah was everything I had wanted.

I proceeded to tell my friend my theory of Hadassah's death – that me having MTHFR causes blood clots, and that a blood clot must have somehow cut off my daughter’s lifeline from me where the umbilical cord thinned. I went on and on, as though it were truth.

Instead of telling me that I was crazy and overreacting, or that I needed to just “get over it and move on already”, (Yes, I actually had someone say that to me.), my friend just embraced me and didn’t let go. She reminded me that God loved me, and that I did NOT contribute to my daughter's death, that it was in NO WAY my fault Hadassah passed away. 

My friend complimented my parenting, telling me that I was a textbook go-by-the-book mom who gave Hadassah a perfect life while she was alive inside me. She encouraged me, and reassured me again and again for what seemed like hours.

She let me cry. 💜
She let me talk. 💛

She hugged me and listened. 💙

She validated me.💚
In that moment, she did everything perfectly.💗

She neither scolded me for popping in as an unannounced mess, nor downplayed my grief, nor gossiped about me later. 

She was (and still is) an amazing friend. 

While I still think that MTHFR has something to do with Hadassah’s death (even though it cannot be proven), I no longer blame myself. But looking back on that critical, defining moment in my life, I realize how blessed I am to be in fellowship with the ladies I love. I relish in the friendships I have with them.

I’m very picky about who I let into my life and my “inner circle”. I don’t have room for judgmental advice or negative comparison parenting. In friendship, I value authenticity, acceptance, and love. 

I reflect on the people that I enjoy ‘doing life with’ and smile. When I think of them, I breathe in the goodness of what God has blessed me with – true friendship. Through all my journeys, no matter where life has taken me, I will forever be thankful for the incredible women that I can call “friend”.

5 Truths About Sensory Disorders

 Three years ago, as I was browsing Pinterest, I came across the following image. I told Jason that it described our son, Jacob, to a tee.  However, it wouldn’t be until three years later that he was flagged by a school occupational therapist as having a sensory disorder.

Photo courtesy of Google Images and found on Pinterest

Not only does Jacob have a sensory disorder, but so does our 3-year-old, Jude. 

Jude – Sensory Processing Dysfunction
Jacob – Sensory Modulation Disorder

Jude’s was much easier to identify than Jacob’s. Every since Jude could grab, he played nonstop with people’s fingernails, trying to bend them back. He sticks everything in his mouth even when he’s not teething. And, he gets overstimulated easily. These were all signs of a Sensory Processing Disorder.

The other day, I had a conversation with someone, trying to explain what it means to have sensory problems. It was tougher to explain than I thought it would be. So, here are 5 truths that as a mom, I think everyone should know about sensory disorders.

Truth #1 – You can be both a Sensory Seeker and Sensory Avoider at the same time. 

Jude is trying to get the sensory
input he needs by drinking
the pool water with his hands.
As a mom, I've learned to look
for these signs so I can implement
a Sensory Brain Break.

Yes, this sounded weird to me too. But this is the case with my both boys when they were tested by an occupational therapist (OT).  How can they be both? Well, it all depends on the situation and what the sensory triggers are in that given situation. In Jude’s case, he may need the sensory input of chewing on a teething necklace (seeking sensory) at the same time as needing personal space and not wanting to be touched (sensory avoiding).

Truth #2 – Sensory meltdowns can happen at any time, any place. 

My boys tend to get overstimulated at times. When this happens, they have what resembles to be BIG temper tantrums. The sad truth is that they cannot just “snap out of it” or “get a grip”. During these meltdowns, the brain has a mind of its own. (No pun intended.) 

The last sensory meltdown Jacob (age 7) had was on the first night of Vacation Bible School at our church. The transitions, crowds, and loud noises were enough to set him off. His meltdown was awful. He cried one moment and got angry the next. He could not be consoled and even started acting out because he didn’t know how to “fix” what was happening to his brain during that meltdown. Days later, he even had an open discussion about it, felt remorse for his behavior, and articulated the problem. I’m blessed by the fact that Jacob has a large vocabulary and is able to express his feelings well when he reflects on his actions. However, that is not the case with Jude.

The last time Jude (age 3) had a sensory meltdown was yesterday at Meijer. I was ordering food at the hot meals counter, and Jude started screaming and covered his ears. In that moment, there was nothing I could do for him except to reassure him he would be ok and to remove him from that situation as quickly as I could. I could tell he was sensing sensory input because he tried to chew on anything he could grab – the cart handle, items nearby on a shelf, and his brother’s fingers. I had left his chewy at home. 

Jude's chewy necklace helps with sensory input.

Water play is one way my kids get
the sensory input that they need.

Truth #3 – Sensory “Brain Breaks” aren't only a great idea, but they’re much needed! 

Both boys’ OT recommend that we create moments when we incorporate different sensory input activities. For Jacob, we are creating a sensory bag with items that he can use anytime he feels that he needs the sensory input. Items include something for each of the five senses - from fabric swatches (touch), to peppermints (taste), to a Walkman (hear). (You get the idea.) For Jude, I’ve started finding time within the day to incorporate sensory play with him – Play-Doh, water play, and swinging on his playground. These brain breaks help lessen meltdowns and outbursts throughout the day.

Truth #4 – Sensory disorders affect EVERYTHING in
day-to-day life. 

Food choices are based on texture. Clothes are chosen because of fabrics. Transitions at home, school, and in public are difficult. And don’t even get me started on the noises, crowds, personal space issues, and over-stimulation in an environment. All these things have to be taken into consideration when raising sensory-sensitive children. I used to think that Jacob was just being defiant when he wouldn’t eat most foods I served, or didn’t like the clothes I bought him. Now I know better. I wasn’t making choices based on his sensory needs.

Truth #5 – Parents and children need to be supported and not criticized. 

This is a huge truth for me because it hits home on the frequent basis. I don’t know how many times I’ve had people  (some I know; others are complete strangers) approach me after seeing the boys’ meltdowns and say things like: 

“My kids never acted like that. They always minded me.”
“Your kids need to see a belt. That’ll teach them to act out in public.”
“Someone needs a nap, or a spanking, or both.”
“You let your kids walk all over you.”

I didn’t need these comments at the time, and I don’t need them now. I know they come from a good place, where people are concerned. After all, it’s easy to fall into the mindset of “I’m a parent expert because I've raised kids”. However, what I have realized over time is that raising kids doesn’t make anyone a parenting expert when it comes to other people’s kids. I’ve learned to have more patience with my own children (even though I fall WAY short and am a hot mess most days) and that no matter what I’m witnessing in public, I don’t know what those families are going through behind closed doors. The last thing a struggling mom needs to hear from me is how I am a "better parent" than she is and how I seem to have all the answers.

Speaking from experience, it’s humiliating at times to be THAT mom that seems to have THOSE kids. It’s physically and psychologically draining as a parent. But, I’m slowly learning to hold my head high and persevere through it. As my boys grow, they’re going to continue to learn coping strategies that will help them get through their sensory meltdowns. They've come a long way, and will continue to grow. 

I firmly believe God put us all on this Earth to support one another and to encourage each another. I hope that I can continue to be an encouragement to other parents that I encounter in daily life, and in the classroom setting. 

Here’s a website I found that explains sensory problems in layman’s terms. I want to note that this is not an advertisement, nor am I being paid to post this link. This is just for those of you who wish to learn more about sensory disorders, because believe it or not, it affects more kids than we all realize.
http://sensationalkidsot.com.au/home/sensory-processing/
Recognizing the signs of sensory meltdowns has made a huge difference in how I connect with people. And that's a good thing. 😄

Faced with the Unknown

My three-year-old has idiopathic epilepsy. 

idiopathic = the cause is unknown 

I heard from Jude's neurologist today. He does NOT have the rare, but treatable form of epilepsy known as ESES. 

Tape and a stocking cap hold the electrodes in place.

This is what the back of the EEG
head wrap looks like.

ESES - Electrical status epilepticus in sleep

Basically, a child (like Jude) is monitored overnight in the hospital using an EEG test. In layman's terms, doctors and nurses use a sticky paste to connect tiny wires and electrodes (suction sensor looking things) to different parts of the patient's scalp and forehead. The electrodes measure brain waves and activity as the patient sleeps.

Jude has done this twice. This 'go-around' went better than the first, but it's still not fun. This time, the neurologist just wanted to make sure he didn't have ESES. Even though my gut told me he didn't, I believe in letting doctors do their God-given abilities to help find answers. 

Jude has a severe language impairment. I've known it for a while, and as time goes on, it's becoming more and more frustrating on everyone's parts. Jacob is frustrated because he can't understand his brother's "jargon" when they play together. My husband and I are frustrated because more often than not, we're not sure how to meet Jude's needs when he's trying to communicate and we spend the next 20 minutes playing guessing games, which leads to over-stimulation and inconsolable meltdowns.  

Could you imagine what it must be like for Jude? He tries his darndest to express himself when he's hurt, sick, or wanting to share something about his day. But, no matter how hard he tries, no one can understand most of the things he communicates.

So today, when I started sharing his test results, people have started asking me how I feel about them. Well, it's hard to say because there isn't a right answer. 

I mean, I guess on one hand, I should be thankful he doesn't have ESES. But on the other hand, it means that he's still a medical mystery. 

Doctors don't know where 10-15 minute seizures have come from. They don't know why he doesn't sleep well. They don't know why he cannot communicate as properly as he should for a child who has had 82 sessions of speech therapies from professionals, all by the age of 3 years, 12 days old. Doctors don’t know if Jude’s behavioral challenges stem from medicine side-effects, his communication disorder, or both.

There are no answers. 

None. Nada. Zip. Zero. Zilch. The Big Goose Egg.

I just wanted answers. 

I hate the unknown. When you must make tough decisions that affect a tiny little human's life and health, the unknown sucks. 

So, I guess that is how I’m feeling about the results of the ESES test...

Coming up this month, we move on to testing for sleep disorders to see whether it’s the epilepsy or something else playing a part as to why Jude rarely sleeps more than 5 hours at a time. Prayers, as always, are appreciated. And in the meantime, if you see me in person, a simple hug or smile is the perfect antidote to my weary heart.

Minimalist Wanna-Be

My family and I recently visited the Amish countryside of Ohio. The Amish's simplistic lifestyle has always intrigued me. I know that I don't exactly know what's going on behind closed doors, but from the outside perspective, they seem like content, happy people. That trip only confirmed my desire to approach life with a minimalism attitude. 

I admire the simplistic ways of the Amish community.

I once heard that in order to be a true minimalist, you must live with less than 100 things. As a working mom with two kids, this made me laugh. I'm not laughing at the minimalists who choose to live this way. I'm laughing because it seems unrealistic to me in the Season of Life I find myself living. 

Even though I weed them out periodically, toys are everywhere - riding toys, Touch-and-Feel books for my Sensory Disorder toddler, toys that assist with fine motor skills, Legos, science kits for the 7-year-old, etc. You get the picture. 

That doesn't even count my husband's piles of... well, I'm not exactly sure what they are. Or my teacher resource stuff. 🙈 I have bins of things I've collected over the years that I use on a constant basis in my classroom. Looking around my house, I have to face the music. I cannot live on less than 100 things right now. 

But, then I realize that I don't necessarily have to. I can still embrace a minimalism mindset without feeling the need to move to a 12' x 12' Tiny House and fish for supper every night. (My husband's dream, by the way.) And I certainly don't have to throw out all the toys that help my children as they grow through different stages of life and become interested in different things.

So then, what does a working-outside-the-house, career-loving, family-oriented minimalist mom look like? 

My entire wardrobe for all seasons.

Well, I think it can look like different things, based on the family's needs and the mom's job.
Let me explain what I mean. Here's my closet. Other than my T-shirts (which only take one drawer of my dresser), socks, and unmentionables, this is literally all the clothes I own. 

It's a simple step-in closet, not a walk-in.
The left side houses my husband's clothes.

 One way that I maintain this space is by sticking to a few rules-of-thumb:
1. If I can only wear it in one season (other than a winter coat), it's out. 
2. If I can mix and match it with other pieces, or layer it, it stays.
3. No matter how trendy it is, if it's not practical for my needs, it's out.
4. When I get a new piece of clothing to hang, there has to already be a free hanger in the closet for it. If there's not, I make a choice to get rid of an older piece of clothing to make space for the new piece. So, I'm not adding to my closet without taking anything away from it.
Maintaining this lifestyle has been freeing. I don't spend large amounts of time stressing about my outfits; I make the most of what I have. And my husband still thinks I look good, no matter. 😉

I save money in the long term too, by not purchasing clothes that I'll barely wear. My rules-of-thumb force me to become a wiser consumer.

Now, I know this isn't for everyone. I have wonderful friends who are required to have larger wardrobes for their jobs (i.e. - television personalities, sales reps, the like...). But for this simplistic teacher, it's a perfect way for me to embrace a lifestyle I admire, all while keeping my family going and looking professional doing it.

Now, if I could just figure out a better toy system...😏

Seasons Of Life

If there's one thing I've learned about life as an adult, it's that it comes in "seasons". And I'm not talking about spring, summer, fall, winter. I'm talking about stages a mom goes through as she has children and watches them grow.  If I may have a completely honest conversation with you for a bit, without any filters, this is how I would sum up my adult “Seasons of Life” thus far as it relates to Motherhood.

"Even though I didn't have kids...
I was a child expert!"

The Dreamer
During this idealistic Season of Life, I had been married for about two years, and wasn't ready for kids. I wanted to spend more time "getting to know" my husband. There's nothing wrong with that mindset, except when it came to my unrealistic parenting views. Even though I didn't have kids, I knew that I wanted them one day. At this point, I had helped babysit my share of children over the span of my young life, so as far as I was concerned, I was a child expert! In fact, when I was out and about in various environments (grocery stores, restaurants, and I admit, even church), I would study adults who were parents. If I saw a child having tantrums, meltdowns, or being too loud, I would judge those parents in my mind. I admit that on countless occasions, my husband and I would look at each other and comment, "When we have kids, we're going to do things differently." Or, "Look at them. They don't have it together. Our kids are going to be different!" What I realize now is that I was naïve and more judgmental than I should have been.

The Babymooner

"I was just happy to be a mom."

Being a new mom marked this Season of Life. After a horrible tragedy occurred with my first-born child, I was fortunate enough to get pregnant again. My second child was my beautiful boy, Jacob. I was so thrilled to get to raise a healthy, wonderful baby that it didn’t matter to me how little sleep I got. My tank was running on empty the entire first year, yet I tried not to complain. I was just happy to be a mom. But I was scared at the same time. I would read parenting books and spend every chance I got trying to help my baby grow – healthy food choices, classical music at bedtime, and lots of pictures of milestones.

Culturally enriching play dates were hand-selected.

The Visionary 

This is the Season of Life in which I became a planner. As a mom of a preschooler, I was determined to give Jacob the best of every opportunity in life. (I mentioned this briefly when I introduced him in my Meet My Crew post.) I envisioned Jacob getting the best preschool education and having the most fun childhood. In the Visionary Mom Stage, I could be at every event, both big and small, in my child’s life. Everything was precisely planned, even down to the carefully hand-selected friends and culturally enriching play dates.

awaiting the wonderful addition

The Naive Adventurer 

The endless sleepless nights and disgusting diaper smells were long forgotten. This is the Season of Life where I decided to have another child. I use the term naive because in my life, everyone I had ever met told me, “The second kid is always easier!” I probably heard that a hundred times. Ok, more like 36. But still, each time I heard it, I was getting more and more excited about adding onto my family. Jude was that wonderful addition.

Currently, life is a balancing act!

The Juggler 

Even though this is not the final Motherhood Season of Life, this is where I’m going to stop because it’s where I find myself now. I feel as though I’m always on-the-go. For me personally, juggling two kids has been so much more difficult than I anticipated. I realize there are days that I cannot give both boys the amount of attention and quality time they need. It’s hard to balance a career and motherhood. At the end of the long day at work, there are so many times I want to just crash and unwind my own introverted way, but I can’t. I have two young kiddos depending on me. But no matter how busy and stressed I feel, I repeat my mantra, “This is just the Season of Life. This too shall pass.”

Who's the Patient?

He folded his hands and leaned forward, his wise eyes squinted through thick glasses as he stared at me across the room, awaiting my answer. I hesitated, and muttered whatever came to my mind. I could tell that he didn’t buy the nonsense I told him.

"He saw that I was struggling
on the inside, no matter how much I was trying to
keep it together on the outside. He sensed it."

I was right in the middle of Jude’s three-year-old checkup with his pediatrician, Doc. I love that my boys have a wonderful rapport with their doctor. By the end of this particular visit, I  had another reason to respect him and his opinion even more.

After taking note of all the updated information about what Jude has been going through concerning medical appointments and speech interventions, Doc shifted his focus from Jude’s health to mine. 

The question he was awaiting an answer for was, “What do you do to take care of yourself?”

I had never been asked that before, and the fact that it came from the boys’ pediatrician surprised me even more. I had anticipated the negative, and thought I was going to hear about how Jude should be further along verbally than he is. (You know, the kind of obvious thing that you already know but makes for easy conversation.) 

Instead, Doc expressed concerned about MY mental health. He wanted to make sure I was taking care of MYSELF!

(Who even does that anymore?)

He proceeded to explain to me that I needed to make time for myself, to unwind and relax. 

I quickly felt guilty at just the thought of taking time for myself, and tried to reassure him that I was really okay, and that I felt thankful to be able to take Jude to all the appointments. I didn’t want the doctor to think I was ungrateful for the opportunities Jude gets to work with specialists so early in life.

But the more the pediatrician talked, the more sense he made. I realized that he didn’t think of me as ungrateful at all.  He saw that I was struggling on the inside, no matter how much I was trying to keep it together on the outside. He sensed it.

Doc spent the next 15 minutes giving me a pep talk, praising ALL the work I am doing as a mom! I cannot even explain how my heart felt as I choked back the tears.

Validation.
All moms NEED validation! 

The doctor and his nurse continued to encourage me, complimenting my decision-making and motherly intuition. Doc finally “reprimanded” me by stating that if I don’t take care of myself, I cannot take care of my boys to the degree that I need to.

Wow. 

His words hit me like a ton of bricks.

Really sounds simple, doesn’t it? 

You may be even thinking, “Duh, Angela. Isn’t that obvious?”

And I would agree with you... It should be obvious, but it wasn’t.

The fact is, I had never taken time to do anything for myself, let along assess my mental health. 

It made me wonder how many moms out there do what I’m doing -- running 100mph 100% of the time, trying to juggle work and motherhood, meeting everyone else’s needs first without even stopping to think of themselves. I dare to say there are many if we all answered honestly.

Why is that?                                         

Does it have to do with how we are wired? 

Society? 

Guilt?
I’m not really sure I have answers to these questions.

But I do know that I need to be able to answer the pediatrician back. I NEED to find an outlet that I enjoy. A way to deal with how overwhelming life gets when I’m trying to make decisions and help my family. 

I value my kiddos’ mental health.
Why not start valuing my own too?

Maybe this blog will help. Only time will tell with that.
In the meantime, if any of you have ideas, let me know. I would love to hear from you on how you deal with issues of mental health and keeping your sanity.