Category Archives: mom fail

The title of my first book.

I rarely read books. When I do, they are typically memoir or biographical non-fiction types. Most of the ones I have picked up recently have been very easy, finish in a 4-hour plane ride, reads. As I read them, I find myself thinking, “oh I could totally write a book.” But then I also think, “I am clearly not a celebrity with an interesting “how I got here” life. I’m not a parenting expert. I’m not any kind of subject-matter expert when it comes to marketing. What the hell would I even write a book about!?”

And while that’s totally true, I still recently found myself thinking of theoretical book pitches.

Title: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ – Mostly Average Accounts of the World’s OKAYest Mom.
Book Type: Parenting
Synopsis: This one seems like the easiest and most obvious. A collection of short stories, mostly previously published here on this blog:

With other stories about how I’ll never be a Pinterest-worthy mom:

  • We celebrate National Donut Day! … a day late. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
  • I remembered to take photos on the first day of school! … a day late. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
  • I set up the annual Advent Activity calendar on December First! … but instead of in the morning when they wake up, it’s after they get home from school. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

________________________

 

Title: Fake it till you make it.
Book Type: career
Synopsis: Nothing really that original. A collection of advice I’ve been given or seen on the internet, followed by stories of how I’ve applied them in my career and how they have helped (or hindered) my career.

  • Shift your language – Appreciation instead of apologies. “I appreciate your patience.” vs. “So sorry I am late.
  • Dress for the job you want, not the job you have. Unless you work in an office and your goal is to be a stripper. Maybe don’t do that.
  • A woman’s place – isn’t in the house or senate or kitchen or resistance. It’s wherever the hell she wants it to be.
  • Defining success – Success can look like different things to different people. Identify what it looks like to you. Are you there yet? If not, keep working at it. If you are, does it feel like success? If yes, awesome and good for you! If not, that’s ok. Redefine, make changes and keep working.

________________________

Title: Only 3 Minutes Late
Book Type: General self-help
Synopsis: Tips for creating work-life balance. Some tips may include:

  • Meal planning: a guide
  • A well-timed growl-yell can really help “motivate” (AKA: scare) your kids into getting out the door in a more expeditious manner.
  • How to say no.
  • Don’t marry someone that’s lazy/thinks that you doing the majority of the housework while maintaining a career is just something that women should do.
  • Go to your kids’ school family luncheons. And take work calls on the drive. Then sit in the car in the parking lot of the school while the call warps up. Then show up to the luncheon 3 minutes late.

________________________

Title: I don’t math well.
Book Type: Parenting/advice
Synopsis: Tips on parenting your academically gifted child.
Excerpt: Your kid has been identified as academically gifted! Neat! Mine has been too. But, me? I’m nowhere near as smart as her. Contained within this book are tried and true tips for parenting your gifted child. Let’s get started.

  1. Active listening – this will make you look less stupid while your kid is talking about what they learned in math that day and you’re silently trying to figure out what the hell they are even saying.
  2. Honesty – it’s always the best policy. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” or “I didn’t even learn that stuff when I was in college, so …” And also? They already know you have no idea what they’re talking about, so there’s no use in trying to pretend.
  3. Respond – “Ask your dad.” “Ask Siri.” and “Google it.” tend to be my go-to’s.
  4.    …

Actually, that’s it. The rest of the book would be blank. Good luck!

________________________

Welp, there are 4 different potential books I could knock out in my spare time. Now, where do I sign my literary agent!?

On feeling like a terrible mother.

I got a call from the school the other day. It was a Thursday, right around noon. I wasn’t expecting to receive a call from the school for anything. Before I even answered the call, I thought, “Oh no, what’s up with Reese?”

****

Back in September, a note came home from Reese’s teacher with an offer to send home an optional homework packet. I wrote a note back to the teacher telling her we’d love to have a homework packet and one was sent home the following Monday along with a daily reading log.

Soccer started for both girls that same week. With soccer came practices and an inconsistent schedule. We weren’t getting home for game nights until after 7 PM only to have to rush a dinner and get the girls showered before bed.

A few weeks after school had started, the last week of September, I suppose, I opened Reese’s weekly folder to discover an un-touched homework packet and a reading log with nothing more than Reese’s name scratched across the top, and two squares colored in.

In that same folder, on the opposite side, I found three permission slips. Two for upcoming field trips and one stating that Reese has been identified as a kiddo that could use some extra reading help and that they’d like our permission to take her out of class to join a reading program.

My heart sank. Her teacher must think we are horrible parents that don’t give their kid the time of day. I felt like it was my fault she needs extra help. Maybe if I hadn’t forgotten about that homework packet. Maybe if I had been more diligent about squeezing in reading every night. Maybe if I was more creative at working “learning” into our conversations. “what are you making for dinner, Mom?” “Reese, I’m making Tacos. What letter does the word T-t-taco start with?”

The next day I emailed the teacher. Mainly to check in and see how Reese was adjusting to kindergarten. The teacher replied that same afternoon saying she would send home test scores from their recent assessments and assuring me that Reese is doing fine.

Her scores from the beginning of the school year showed Reese as “high risk.” The most recent scores on the test showed great gains and progress. Of course, all I could see was that label.

****

I took a deep breath in and answered the phone. The call from the school had nothing to do with Reese. It was in regard to her sister. Why did I assume it was going to be a negative call about Reese?  I chatted with the teacher that called, hung up the phone and despite the pleasant nature of the call, I felt like a terrible mother.

When your third kid sleeps though the night…

For the last three or so months, every night I’ve climbed into bed thinking “maybe tonight will be the night.” And every night at some point between the hours of 1 am and 3:30 am I’m up feeding Lincoln and thinking, “well, maybe tomorrow night…”

Then like magic it finally happened! Lincoln slept through the night!

The next night as Andy and I were getting ready for bed I was laughing thinking about the differences between the first, second, and third born kids.

When Rylee first slept through the night, she was just 6 weeks old. I remember waking up just after the normal wake up time wondering why she hadn’t cried out yet. After lying in bed for a few minutes and not hearing anything through the monitor, I panicked and I got up and went to make sure she was ok. Of course she was fine.

Fast forward about four years later. Reese slept through the night for the first time at about 10 weeks old. Again, I remember waking up just after her normal wake up time. Not hearing anything over the monitor I went back to sleep, tossing and turning as the night went on, occasionally waking to listen over the monitor.

Fast forward to present day. Lincoln is nearly 4 months old. Thursday night he slept through the night. And I realized it when my alarm went off on Friday morning.

Yup. Mom of the year right here! I never even stirred.

It happened two nights in a row, then he was up once again last night. I’m not expecting this to be an every night occurrence just yet, but I’m not gonna lie, I’m really looking forward to getting back into a regular thing with my good friend REM because it’s been far too long. IMG_8898.JPG

Pregnancy with a Side of Guilt

Finding out that you are unexpectedly pregnant when you’ve already decided you’re done is markedly different that unexpectedly getting pregnant with your first baby a year ahead of your desired timeline. It does weird things to your psyche.

Shouldn’t I be excited? Aren’t all babies supposed to be considered a blessing? Doesn’t this mean it was meant to be?

But, I wasn’t excited. Or even a little bit happy. I was convinced we were being punished for something… What lesson is God trying to teach us right now? Very funny God…you can make this joke stop any time now. Maybe if we don’t talk about it or tell anyone it will just go away…or I’ll just wake up from this bad dream?

Guilt.

And what about the girls? Rylee will have to start all over again. Will she resent me as she gets older? Will this baby hold her back from being able to do things? That’s not fair to her. And poor Reese…I had so much one-on-one time with Rylee when she was little, I was looking forward to having that time with Reese. Now it will have to be shared.

Guilt.

On top of that, I couldn’t help but think of my friends battling/struggling/coping with infertility. Here I am getting unexpectedly pregnant and just wanting it to be a bad dream while they’re living the opposite nightmare every day.

Guilt.

Then of course I felt awful for not feeling excited. Needless to say I was not in a good place those first few weeks. So many tears. The guilt was all consuming.

Thankfully the guilt surrounding everything has gone away. The excitement is building. And I know we’ll be just fine.

Little one…you need to know that just because you weren’t in our plans, you are meant to be and I am looking forward to having you in our family. xo, Mama

Zero.

I wake up to my alarm…it’s been going off for 5 minutes at least. Holy shit, did I even sleep at all? As badly as I want to hit the snooze button I get up. {minus 3}

Time to make lunch…let’s see…half PB&J, string cheese, chips, water…she needs some fruit. Banana. Check. {minus 2}

Reesie, you need to come sit down while you eat that cereal. Stop running around please. I don’t want you to choke.” {minus 5}

Rylee get up and get dressed. You cannot miss the bus.” {minus 5}

Reese stop standing on the chair…you need to sit on your bum.” {minus 2}

Dante’s food bowl needs to be filled up. Can’t forget his treat. {minus 1}

Today is the last day of school before Christmas…Can’t forget to take the teacher gifts. {minus 5}

Oh, Ry, your Christmas program is tonight…do you want me to pack you a dress to wear?” {minus 2}

As I put Rylee’s new dress, pink leggings and fancy shoes in the bag on the floor my hair brushes against my face. I tuck it behind my ear and look down…my hair is a hot mess and I’m wearing a puffy vest, a hooded sweatshirt, jeans and an old pair of shoes. Hmm…maybe I should change real quick.

I reach into my reserves…empty.

Zero.

No fucks left to give.

I shrug my shoulders and walk out the door.