All I want for Christmas...

 

Ahhhhhhhhhh. Christmas is over. I've tried tackling the mounds of gifts a few times now, but I think I might snuggle up in Leah's new princess sleeping bag. However, this Christmas has been a welcome change to a few celebrations we've had in the past.

 

For the longest time, I firmly believed that Leah hated Holidays, Celebrations, or any kind of Good time. Unfortunately, Bill and I were most likely the reason.

 

Like any other time I've had to plan something, I was a frantic, sweaty, frazzled mess. I had been planning Leah's party for months. Basically, since the day she was born, I was planning this party. Pink and green everywhere. 50 people invited. Balloons covered the scene. What could go wrong? Oh yeah, I have a baby, that's what could go wrong.

On the most important day of Leah's life, to date, she didn't take a nap. What are the chances? Friends and family quietly rocked her before the rest of the guests arrived and things were looking okay, as far as a first birthday can go. Then, the moment everyone had been waiting for. The smash cake. The moment, in a perfect world, when she would tear this thing to shreds and leave no survivors. Bill and I had that "new parents look", this would be a memory we would carry with us forever; The moment we would begin to sing and she would...Grab a hold of the candle. Tears instantly followed. I secretely cried in shame. There were gasps, and then mostly silence. At least I think there was. I couldn't hear anything over her screaming. I'm pretty sure the party ended there. She wanted nothing to do with that flaming, death trap, her parents tried to feed her, and she wanted nothing to do with her presents either.

The following Christmas, we had hope. 19 months is a good age to understand presents. Not Leah. She screamed, and begged to go take a nap. Two days worth of parties and families to visit and not one single gift was opened by Leah. Even 2 month old Liam opened more gifts than her.

Once again, it was Birthday time. I knew that we would get this right. However, Bill was convinced that at another year older, Leah would know not to touch the candle. I begged him to not to....and she burnt her hand again. Leah officially hates Holidays.
Even at Easter, when my dad had constructed a Pinata for the kids, she wanted nothing to do with it! She has had enough of the Celebrations.

I was bound and determined to get this straightened out. The day after Thanksgiving, and not a moment sooner, only because Bill has a "No Christmas before Thanksgiving" rule, I exuded Christmas spirit. I made that Jolly old elf her best friend in the entire world. He would bring her everything her little mind could imagine. She would have heaps and mounds of candy, come Christmas, if only she would show a little, tiny, glimpse of Joy on Christmas Day.
We watched every Cartoon Christmas movie available to us and busted out all the Carols in the car. Then a light clicked on. I think she was getting the idea. She begged to watch the Grinch, and to have Bill read it every night. She was excited to see Santa at the mall and cheered when we saw Santa at Wal-mart.
Did I actually Manage to get Leah excited about a Holiday?
Only Christmas would tell.
When the big moment arrived, I was leery. She didn't much like the idea that she couldn't open every present to play at that second. I winced a little, and reassured her the exact millisecond we get home, that sleeping Dora doll and Tent will be your Dream come true. And then I heard it. Her little ecstatic voice say, "Open presents, please". I sighed a 2 and half year, sigh of relief in waiting. Leah enjoyed a Holiday. It wasn't the gifts, snow, or Jewelry that had I wanted for Christmas, but to see Joy and Magic light up my children's faces.

"Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful"
 



Love is Louder

 

I can't turn the news off. Even if my TV is off, my mind is still reeling. I've spent 3 days crying in sadness, grief, and fear. I do not know these children but I know their stories, and they seem all too close to home. "Loves to color", "Lights up the room", " Such a Joy". It sounds familiar because we've all uttered these words about our own babies.

 

Days before this tragedy I found my self to be a "YouTube Enthusiast". When my kids fell asleep I was entranced with some of these videos. I watched for about 3 hours. Soldiers surprising their loved ones, Families announcing they were expecting. I watched all to see one thing, over and over. Pure Human Emotions. Joy, Relief, Excitement.

 

Friday I spent the morning with my own family. We went to see Santa, the kids played at the Play Park, and we went to Lunch. During lunch I had taken the kids, who were getting cranky by this point, to the car to let Bill finish his meal in peace. I opened Facebook on my phone and began to Sob. This just didn't and still doesn't make sense to me.

After everyone had fallen asleep, I still couldn't put my mind to ease.

I repeated this to myself. "There is still Good in this world"

I opened Youtube and began to search. I watched probably 75 videos of "Acts of Kindness"

There is Still Good in this world

I need to forget what I saw on the News

There is Still Good in this World

....and over and over again.

 

2 months ago when I started writing, I had a post called Give without Sparing. I want to be a good influence for my children. I will breed Love and Tolerance. Have I lived my life like this since I've posted? Probably not.

I decided I will make a better effort.

 

Generally acts of kindness are done Anonymously. In my case I NEED to tell you what I've done, as an example so I not only affect them, but I start a fire in my community. I started at McDonald's.

I decided I would go just to pay for someones order. A construction truck pulled in behind me and i was disappointed. I was hoping for maybe a Mom or someone who looked like they could use it. And then I realized what I just thought. I was stereotyping my act of kindness. I paid for their meal. My mind was again, reeling. Maybe they just said Thanks and drove away. Maybe they paid for the person behind them. Kindness has no limits.

 

"There can still be good in this world"

 

Here is what I have planned/or have done so far

 

1. Donate Blood

2. Buy a strangers meal

3. Call someone who needs my call

4. Donate to the Salvation Army

5. I left Dollar Bills on the games at Walmart

6. Donate books to the Library

7. Donate a Pack of Diapers

8. Send Christmas cards to local workers

9. I donated a toy to Toys for Tots

10. I donated some canned foods

11. I brought carts in the parking lot inside the store.

 

...and I'm not done yet. I plan on doing 27 Intentional acts of Kindness and hopefully 100's after these.

 

I, 100%, no doubt about it, believe that I can make this world a better place. If not the world, than my Family, or the stranger who needed a free meal.

 

 

LOVE IS LOUDER



Unrealistic Expectations

 

Have you ever heard the line, Romantic Comedies have given Women Unrealistic Expectations about Romance? I hear this all the time, from my own husband even.

 

I have to admit, I am a sucker for Romantic Comedies. Who wouldn't want John Cusack standing outside of your window holding a Boom Box over his head, blasting a love song? Or for the Man of your dreams to come kiss you while standing on a baseball mound, in front of Hundreds of people? I want Gerard Butler, from P.S. I Love you, reminding me to live life if you aren't here with me, and of course Channing Tatum in The Vow, reliving our first moments so I could remember our lives together. Who can forget when Heath Ledger serenaded Julia Stiles in front of the whole Soccer team or that Kiss from the Notebook.

 

Have these movies honestly given me an unrealistic outlook on Love?

Sitting on my couch, forcing Bill to watch another one of these movies, where I laugh and cry, and think to myself, "Wouldn't that be wonderful". But seriously, is it really that Unrealistic?

 

Over the past two years with Bill, I've probably complained that he hasn't wooed me in these Hallmark ways. No Flowers on Valentines day and no grand gestures on random days of the week. Where is all the Romance? However, every time we get into the car, and I turn on the radio, Bill hears this; "I love this song, it reminds me of you". I say this all too often, and the more I look at my life, the more I realize I'm not living a Romantic Comedy, I'm living a Romantic Country song....if you don't like mushy stories, I suggest you stop reading.

 

Day after day, song after song, I am moved to tears, and laughter, thinking how much these songs remind me of the Man I am so in love with, and how much he does for me everyday.

 

An' it's the way that she looks with the rice in her hair.
"Eatin' burnt suppers the whole first year
"An' askin' for seconds to keep her from tearin' up.
"Yeah, man, that's the good stuff."

-Kenny Chesney

 

I can't even begin to list how many horrible meals I have made. Undercooked, overcooked, flavorless, bizarre, etc. He has sat down at dinner, and told me that Dinner was good. I have someone willing to lie rather than crushing my feelings.

 

" I could tell that got her attention, So I said, "Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, I wouldn't trade a single day  For 100 years the other way."She just smiled and rolled her eyes, Cause she's heard all of my lines, I said, "C'mon on girl, seriouslyIf I hadn't been so lucky
I'd be shootin' pool in my bachelor pad.Playing bass in my cover band.Restocking up cold Bud Light, For poker every Tuesday night, yeah I'd have a dirtbike in the shed,And not one throw pillow on the bed,I'd keep my cash in a coffee can, But if I was a single man, Alone and out there on the loose Well I'd be looking for a woman like you."

-Lee Brice

 

This is one of my absolute favorite songs. And it's probably the 3rd or 4th song that I've named, "Bill and I's song", but for right now this is the official. I laugh at the lyrics, he does too, because it is beyond true. I've completely ruined his status as a "football fan", he has a child friendly vehicle, and we have about 10 throw pillows on our bed and every couch in the house. But he sucks it up, because he loves me.

 

"There's dirty shirts to wash
Dishes in the sink to do
And there's how many times
Does 17 go into 52
There's bedtime prayers to pray
Sleep tights and I love you's
And then there's a pair of eyes
I get to lose myself into .What keeps me keepin the faith
What makes me believe I can
Family man .They're a world my world revolves around
My sacred piece of solid ground
The flesh and bone that gives me strength to stand
They are a fire in my drivin on
The drive behind my comin home
The livin, breathin, reason that I am
A family man "

-Craig Campbell

 

And this is the song that brings me to tears. It's the simple things that makes him The man of my Dreams. He wakes up with the kids so I can sleep in, he spontaneously does the dishes when I just feel like sitting on the couch, and he selflessly agrees to take family photos, play board games on Saturdays, and sings "I'm a little teapot" 1,800 times a day.

 

He is the world my world revolves around, and I'd rather have Ordinary everyday, than a Grand Gesture, once in a lifetime.

 



Comparison is the Thief of Joy

It's been a while...In fact it's been so long, I've almost forgotten which font I normally use.

It's taken me a while to get back to this. Not because I've had nothing to write about. I've had tons and tons to write about in the last few weeks. Thanksgiving, Road Trips, 50th Birthday Parties, Christmas Shopping...

 

But every night, when I tuck the kids in, and sit at my computer. I stare at the screen that asks me if I have anything new to write.

 

Of all the Sins that I've "committed" in my life, there is none that plague  me as much as Coveting. But today, I'd rather call it "Comparison".

 

When they say, "Comparison is the Thief of Joy" they, whoever they are, must have learned the Hard way. As I do, mostly, everyday.

I haven't written because I sit at my computer and read tons of other blogs, that are, well, amazing. These people actually get paid to do this. They are fantastic at what they do, they go to conferences to learn how to be better, and I just sit at home, wondering if I'm really that relatable. I've been told that everyone loves reading my blogs, but that doesn't stop me from thinking otherwise. Am I still funny, honest, and relative?

 

Comparison doesn't just haunt my blogging life, it hinders my entire life.

 

I love my kids to the Moon and back, but they have this way of getting in the car with their clothes on, hair brushed, and clean faces. However, when we get to the store, it looks like they fell out of an ad for a Tide commercial. They have taken their shoes and socks off, rubbed their heads into the seats to do wild things to their hair, and have dug up dirt or food to rub all over their once clean faces. 9 times out of 10 I am alone with the kids. When I left the house, my hair was down, I looked nice. By the time I got to the store I'm sweating, my hair is up in a messy bun, and I look like a mess. I know, or at least think I know what people are saying. I'm a young girl, with two kids, by my self, who is clearly a mess...and they go on shaking their heads.

 

Why Can't I look older? Why Can't I look like I have it all together?

 

Whenever I met Bill, I compared him to meeting a Greek God. I was hypnotized. He's funny, and smart, and yeah, the other obvious aspects he has to offer. I however, at 22 just learned how to apply eye liner properly, and I'm just gonna say it....I'm about 25 lbs over weight. This may or may not have anything to do with my love affair for junk food. But in the back of my head, more often than not, I think, "What the heck is he doing with me?"

 

Why can't I just find more time to exercise, or eat less, or maybe grow an inch or 2?

 

This cycle goes on and on and on. I don't like the way my house looks, or my furniture, or my clothes. I don't know how to do anything with my hair, have I run out of jokes to tell, or interesting things to say?

 

Comparison is the Thief of Joy.

 

I know my kids love me. I know my husband loves me. Why can't I stop comparing myself to everyone around me? Comparison made me stop writing, and made me pick up a bowl of cookie dough. I don't want pity, just understanding. I only air out my dirty laundry because I'd rather be honest than anything else. As long as I'm comparing myself to the world, about all, at least I know I'm truthful. Which is something, most can't say anymore.

So I'll take my honesty, and everything I have to be thankful for, and work a little harder tomorrow.