I love you so much, Rafiki. Happy birthday.
I love you so much, Rafiki. Happy birthday.
We all know the joke: moms will only get to rest when their kids are off to college. Cue the laugh track. Years and years ago, before I had kids, or married, or even engaged. I met someone who told me that parenting is a 24/7 job, with no holidays, and no sick days. I kind of rolled my eyes at it, because that’s impossible right? Surely, that was an exaggeration. Annnnnnd…. cue the laugh track again.
My first hint that it was true was when I was cutting the baby’s fingernails at 3am because that was the only time she wouldn’t squirm. It was confirmed countless times since then — when I was at a meeting, sneakily texting asking if the kids have eaten. Also, when I stayed up all night, researching schools and making the budget and scheduling their extracurricular classes. Even when somebody else takes care of them, it’s impossible to turn off being a mom.
These past couple of weeks have been overwhelming. I’ve done nothing extraordinary. I certainly don’t need to do anything that others don’t do, but why do I feel so tired?
Moms of the internet, do you have any tips for me?
image via Preview. ph
What is it like to live with mental illness? One woman *ahem* writes about her experience.
“When I send a message, even for the most trivial thing, I word it so that I would be at peace with what I said if it just happened to be the last thing I said to that person. Don’t even get me started on plane rides. It’s a metal tube levitating over oceans. For every physics principle you throw at me, I say MH370.
I go through weeks when I feel like I’m in a haze. I force myself to get out of bed. I force myself to talk. I don’t feel close to anyone. I can feel so exhausted that I hope to disappear in a puff of smoke. There’s so much of me making the effort to do things or feel things that I am exhausted all the time. I would rather sleep.”
Read the entire article here.
I’ve been trying to watch what I eat, but it’s such an inconsistent experience.
It’s also very hard to be on a diet when your feelings are in the way.
I know I can burn off the calories by being active so I downloaded an exercise app. The problem is that it takes me 12 hours to finish a 15-minute routine.
If for some reason I do lose some weight, I tend to celebrate too early.
I’ve been promising myself that I will get back to my pre-pregnancy weight for years. For too long now, I’ve been holding on to a certain pair of jeans that I will most definitely wear again once I lose the inches. You just wait and see.
The other day, my daughter put her hands on my tummy and exclaimed, “Mommy, you’re so fat!”
I stood there, feeling shell-shocked. What should I say? What should I do? Should I tell her she was rude and that she hurt my feelings? She was just telling the truth. I mean, I am technically fat. Should I scold her for that? Do I have a conversation with her about how there are some things you should never tell another person? But she’s three. Would she even understand?
As I stood there, debating on how to react, she pressed her face against my stomach and said,”You’re the warmest mommy ever and I love you so much.”
So yeah, I could probably stand to lose a few pounds. But darn it if I didn’t learn my lesson fast that how much I weigh is not what’s important.
It depends on when I met me. As a kid, yes. In my early twenties, not so much. Now, definitely — finally, someone who understands how great my baby is..
Japanese photographer Chino Otsuka’s “Imagine Finding Me” series shows us what happens when you meet your former self. She digitally placed recent images of her into old photographs. It’s eerie, but definitely beautiful.
images from chino.co.uk
I couldn’t resist. I encountered this painting by Eugène Carrière through one of my daily blog reads and it reminded me so much of Hannah as a newborn.
via Marvelous Kiddo
This picture was taken on the day we came home from the hospital. My little three-day old, gingerly touching my bloated face.
Wish your mommy a happy birthday, Hannah. It’s my first with you around, and I can’t even imagine life before you. You and your daddy are the reasons why this is the best birthday ever.
Rainy season is bug season. I never minded it very much before but since Hannah arrived, I’ve become a lean, mean mosquito killing machine. I now have bionic reflexes. I can grab mosquitoes in mid-flight and crush them at one fell swoop. If you’ve got wings and an intention to bite my daughter, you’re dead.
In less violent news, unless you’re fabric, I’ve discovered another skill. Crafting! Using this pattern as a guide, I made a fabric flower for Hannah. We were going to an event and I thought her plain white dress was a little too blah.
I’m totally high off the success of my little project. Today a flower, tomorrow the world. Martha, I’ve got my eye on you.