motherhood

The Good Stuff

Posted on July 2, 2012 Written by Tonya

I hope my son doesn’t remember.

I hope he can’t recall everything I say and do.

I’d rather his memories of me standing in front of the mirror plucking my gray hairs and applying face masks be fuzzy.

Just as I’d rather he completely block out the time I yelled at him so loudly my entire body shook,

beat myself up about not working out or accomplishing more on my “To Do” list,

ran out of patience, not to mention creative ideas because he wouldn’t go to bed and I hid out in the bathroom for several minutes before I regained composure,

would go days without make-up or washing my hair,

wept for people he’ll never know and those we both have yet to meet.

called a friend an unkind word under my breath,

banged my fists on the steering wheel in anguish,

sighed heavily at unmet expectations that were set entirely too high to begin with,

slammed a door in frustration,

cried as I told his dad I didn’t think I was cut out for this motherhood thing,

threw my phone across the room in a blind rage.

The list of my not so finer moments goes on and on. I’m sure you have one of your own; things you wish you could change, protect your child from, moments you would do over if it were possible.

We are parents.

We are human.

We make mistakes.

I make mistakes.

Tons of them.

I hope my son only remembers the good stuff.

And if not, I hope he can forgive my flaws and indiscretions.

I Never Knew…

Posted on June 11, 2012 Written by Tonya

…that my sleep patterns would be so completely interrupted.

…that I would wipe your snot with the sleeve of my shirt.

…that there would be stickers on my living room floor for weeks on end.

…that World War III would break out if I offered the “wrong” flavor of juice.

…that I would utter the words, “Don’t lick that”, “Do you have to use the potty?” or, “Maybe” so many times.

…that rainy days would make me want to cry.

…that we would waste so much food!

…that my patience would be tried each and every day in ways I never could imagine.

…that there was so much I didn’t know.

…that there would be crayon marks on our walls, Play-Doh ground into clothing and paint caked to our dining table.

…that jumping in puddles would so fun.

…that there would be so many little toy pieces to misplace, lose all together, step on, or throw over the fence our neighbor’s yard.

…that there would be master negotiation tactics used in my house on an hourly basis. Seriously, show me a man on a ledge of a highrise and I’ll get him down!

…that ice cream, M&M’s and lollipops held so much power.

…that time-outs would be as much for you as they are for me.

…that I would spend half a lunch at a restaurant (with my in laws!!) coaxing you out from underneath the table. Grrr.

…that my heart could be so full.

This photo was taken yesterday. Do not let the innocent look on his face fool you, this little hellion refused to sit at the table, eat or cooperate in any way. Holy embarrassing!

This Is Motherhood

Posted on May 12, 2012 Written by Tonya

Not a day goes by that I don’t wonder if my mother would think I was doing a good job raising my son.

Not a day goes by that I don’t want to pick up the phone and call my mother to ask her, when I was Lucas’ age, did I do this or that? or seek parenting advice of one type or another.

Not a day goes by that I don’t want to send her a photo of a grandson she never had the chance to meet.

Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her and wish she were here.

Not a day goes by when I don’t feel incredibly grateful for my childhood, the lessons that were instilled in me and the love she showed me.

Sitting next to Lucas yesterday in his classroom for Mother’s Day breakfast, he was as thrilled to have me there as I was to be there. He was beaming; his were eyes brighter and bluer than usual and a permagrin affixed to his face.

I am so proud to be his mom. My heart was overjoyed and I welled up as he presented me with a wooden treasure box he had painted and card that had been decorated with his tiny hand-print.

In that moment, two things occurred to me; this is motherhood, an all encompassing rush of love that you feel throughout every pore and cell of your body and a deep hope that I made my mother feel this way too.

This Mother’s Day, as with every day, I miss my mom.

I miss her wisdom and humor and chocolate chip cookies. I miss her smile and not being able to take a photo without losing her eyes (case and point below). I miss her ability to know when to back off and when to reach out a hand. I miss her laughter than inevitably turned into a coughing attack. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to hear that again.

She was a good mother.

The last Mother's Day I spent with my mom - 2007.

Wishing mothers everywhere a very happy Mother’s Day!

Fear & Anxiety

Posted on May 10, 2012 Written by Tonya

It is completely heartbreaking (and to be fair, a little frustrating) when your child is inconsolable because they lack the words to express what ails them or what they desire.

If you knew, you could address it, right? When our children were infants, we went through the check list: is he wet?, is it meal time?, is he gassy?, is he tired?, etc. As their vocabulary increases, they can tell you what’s wrong or what they need. Instead of their grunts and groans and our second guessing, we hear, “more grapes” or “I have a tummy ache”. It’s wonderful!

Lucas has an extensive vocabulary, but it is devastating to visibly see anxiety and fear getting the best of him. He doesn’t have the words to describe those feelings and we are struggling to calm him through two very scary (to him) situations: fire alarms and swim lessons.

Let me back up a little…

When we were in Hawaii last summer, we were awakened on the first night of our stay by a loud fire alarm scaring Lucas half to death. I have never seen him so frightened. He was shaking and holding on to me tighter than anyone ever has and it took him a long time to get back to sleep that night.

Six months later he was in the Kids Club at the gym I attend and there was a fire alarm and everyone was evacuated from the building.

Once a month at his preschool, he experiences a fire drill, which just adds more fuel to the fire (no pun intended).

All of these incidents are discussed in our home on a regular basis. Even when we think we’ve moved past it, Lucas will demand that we tell him the “story” of what occurred during each scenario over and over and over.

He knows “fire alarms are just loud and don’t hurt you”, “we need them to be safe in case there is a real emergency”, and that his teachers will give him a “heads up”, if there is going to be a drill on one of the three days he’s at school, but he is still struggling.

Lucas’ other source of anxiety is swim lessons. He LOVES every form of water and has no qualms about going under water, floating, blowing bubbles, etc. We have completed four Parent & Me classes, BUT he is not a fan of his semi-private lessons and he frets about it all morning leading up to it. He ends up doing all the work in the 20 minute class, but cries all the way through.

For both of these issues, I have taught Lucas some basic deep breathing techniques for when he begins to feel scared and of course, we talk about what he’s experiencing and assure him that it’s okay to be scared.

Turns out the deep breathing helps me too, as there is nothing sadder than that face he makes just before his eyes well up with tears and his chin starts to quiver. All I can do is scoop him up and kiss him repeatedly and hold him and protect him.

My little boy.

On one hand, anxiety is a natural condition that helps us cope with new experiences and protects us from danger, so he HAS to work through it, but he’s only (almost) three and on the other, he’s a boy and society says that he is suppose to be tough and brave and show little emotion. As his mother, I just want to help him the best way I can.

If you’re the mother of a boy, how are you teaching that it is okay to be fearful? Do you have any tips for taming anxiety?

Laughter Is My Only Good Advice

Posted on April 24, 2012 Written by Tonya

They say laughter is the best medicine and when it comes to raising kids, there has never been a truer statement. Take is from Tracy, also known as Sellabit Mum.

I had the pleasure of meeting Tracy at BlogHer last year and she is simply lovely. We have always had a fun banter and this letter to her eldest daughter is down right perfect and I am thrilled to welcome her here today.

Dear Eldest Daughter,

I’m glad we’ve reached the point in our relationship that you can laugh at me and not just laugh with me and get my jokes (although – thank goodness, as developing a good sense of humor is truly important), because I want you to know that I am human and that I hurt and also make many mistakes. Also, my jokes are always funny. Write that down.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s hard being the oldest child. Your parents obsessing about getting it all right. Buying the right crib, painting the nursery just so, finding the perfect potty chair, feeding you the right foods, reading you only the best books, taking you to all of the right classes, getting you professionally photographed every damn month. Not that I would admit to doing all of that but if I were to fess-up…pretty much we just wanted what was best..when honestly we had no idea what we were doing.

So then I wonder if it’s hard being the oldest child because you have little siblings watching your every move – the struggle for independence, the bedtimes pushed a little later, the trendy clothes, and the new fights with your parents.

At times it can be so overwhelming as a parent just knowing the immense responsibility we have raising kind, generous, contributing people that maybe we don’t stop the think that you carry some of that same weight. You get to experience our failures first-hand like a strange science experiment of the parenting kind.

I apologize. Also, no you can’t stay-up until 10pm this weekend. BECAUSE I SAID SO.

All of the above is just to really say that I’m scared. Very scared. You’re turning 10 this year. The next few years ahead of you will be filled with wonder, hormones, laughter, tears and probably pretty crazy fights with your mother. There will be days that you just want to play on the playground with your sisters and days where you feel like you don’t have a friend in the world.

But we will get though it and you need to know that the other side of it will be beautiful. Truly.

So for now – before this all starts and I stumble and fall and likely have to apologize 100 times for my unpreparedness…please remember that it all just boils down to these very simple things:

1. You are loved

2. You are beautiful

3. You are kind

4. You are important

5. You are smart

6. You are strong

but mainly…

7. You are too good for that boy, so get in the house NOW young lady and finish your homework.

See, it’s the laughter that is going to get us through. God willing.

Love you,

Mom

Raising Confident Girls

Posted on April 4, 2012 Written by Tonya

I am the mother to a young son, but I am a woman and I was a daughter.

I think about having a daughter a lot and quite frankly it scares the hell out of me.

I wonder, how I will I raise a confident, well-rounded, strong, independent (but not too much so) woman?

While I had wonderful and positive parental role models growing up, I did not have the greatest relationship with my mother.

I was told how beautiful I was all the time by both parents and everyone around me and I learned to believe it, but I wish that my parents, in particular my mother, had tried to get to know me better and focus more attention on my other positive characteristics when I was growing up: I could sing, I was a thoughtful friend, very organized, always loved to read, excelled in English Lit, History, French and later Spanish, I was active in student government, landed the lead in school plays and always a starter on school sports teams. But because those traits were never highlighted, it took me many years and a lot of soul searching to realize there is much more to me than my looks.

We put a lot of emphasis in our society on appearance and it’s really a shame….

To read more on how I believe we can raise confident girls, please visit my post today on Smart Mom Style.

We Made It!

Posted on March 23, 2012 Written by Tonya

As women, I don’t think we are ever more vulnerable (sensitive, wacky, hormonal, crazed or sleep deprived) than when we are pregnant or new mothers.

I wrote a post today for Smart Mom Style about my favorite newborn/baby gear and in doing so, I went through ~~hundreds~~ dozens of photos I have of Lucas as a newborn and in an instant, I was transported back to those early days of being unsure of myself and scared out of my wits. Nine months of preparation turned out to be no preparation at all.

Look at him, he fit in a basket!

So tiny and fragile. I thought I would break him in half every time I changed his diaper. And those cries like bird calls were so foreign to me. So desperate. I cried too. I question my every decision and my ability to care for this little creature.

Both of us were brand new, me in my role and hm to the world. Both of us so uncertain of what was ahead of us.

The only constant was love.

And trust.

Lots of trust.

Now those early days make me smile with pride. We made it!

I would go back in a heartbeat, knowing what I know now, of course, but I am also loving exactly where we are today…

Always trusting,

always loving.

Lucas, one month old - Photo by Stephanie Ann Photography

Linking up with Galit (These Little Waves) and Alison’s (Mama Wants This) monthly link up, Memories Captured.

Motherhood

Posted on March 9, 2012 Written by Tonya

Motherhood can be a roller coaster ride. Each day is different from the last. It is not for the faint of heart or weak stomached.

Motherhood is calculating the number of diapers and extra clothes you think you might need knowing no matter how many extras you pack, you will not have enough.

Motherhood is reluctantly allowing one (or two) special treats because of the adorable way they were asked for.

Motherhood is beaming with delight when three complete strangers compliment you on your two year old’s inflight behavior.

Motherhood is begging your child not to open the door of the public bathroom stall while you’re half naked. Repeatedly.

Motherhood is sweating through your pantyhose as you struggle to get a car seat installed correctly in a rental car.

Arriving at Tucson International Airport.

Motherhood is rising blood pressure and thinning patience when your son will not sit still, stop whining, or accept any of the activities you’ve brought for him to do while at a very adult function.

Motherhood is quickly scrubbing crayon out of a pew cushion before anyone notices.

The scene of the crime!

Motherhood is coaxing a child to eat and worrying about his nutrition intake, but still offer ice cream in exchange for ten more bites.

Motherhood is pretending to call the ice cream store only to find out they are closed.

Motherhood is capturing small moments that will forever be etched in your memory.

No trip to Tucson would be complete without a visit to Bookman's, our favorite used bookstore.

Motherhood is doing three loads of laundry in the middle of the night, wiping sweating brows, singing lullabies and willing whatever nasty bug has attacked your child to leave him in peace.

Motherhood is searching the Internet at 2 in the morning and again at 3:15 for tips on how to treat a dehydrated child.

Motherhood is heart swelling tenderness as he reaches for you and only you.

Motherhood is heavy sighs and silent gratitude as your poor sick child finally drifts off to sleep and do does your leg because he’s in your lap.

Motherhood for me was all of the above over the last 24 hours. All of the above and an indescribable willingness to do it all over again. That’s motherhood.

A HUGE big thank you to Lucas’ aunt Leah for all her help on our quick and very eventful trip to Tucson.

I’m His Mom

Posted on February 22, 2012 Written by Tonya

While at the park today, someone asked me if I was Lucas’ babysitter.

Could it have been the hoodie and Converse sneakers that prompted the question?

It certainly wasn’t the lines on my face or the hair pulled up in a bun on top of my head.

Or was it?

Don’t we look alike?, I thought.

Don’t we have the same blue eyes?

If you spent any time with the two of us together, you’d recognize in an instant the same short temper, extremely strong will and an inability to sit still for too long.

If you listened to us, you’d hear the same phrases coming out of our mouths and inflection in our voices.

If you watched us chasing each other across the grass, you would have heard the infectious laughter than only two people that spend as much time together as we do can share.

If you looked closely, you’d see an immeasurable love and a bond so pure that only parent and child can share.

If you could look into my head, you’d realize how much space is occupied by thoughts of this boy’s well-being, including his daily nutrition intake, overall health and happiness, growth, sleep cycles, education, relationships, and striving to be the best role model I can be.

I wish you could see the way he reaches for me as if I’m the only person in the world .

We have the same blood running through our veins and his heart is mine as mine is his.

Babysitter?

No. I am way more than his babysitter, “I’m his mom.”, I stated proudly.

I’m lucky enough to be his mom.

A Moment Of Grace

Posted on January 10, 2012 Written by Tonya

I always know what I’m going to get when I visit These Little Waves; a welcome pause from my hectic day and demanding tot, a warm fuzzy feeling in my heart and a smile on my face.

Galit writes the way I hope to someday. Her words are tender and delicious, inviting and rich with description and full of life. Galit’s letter this week is no exception. I dare you to read it and not come away feeling a little warmer from the inside out.

I am very honored to have my friend here today sharing a single moment that helped her through her early days of motherhood.

Dear Beth,

I know that’s your name even though we’ve hardly spoken. Our teaching days were busy and our schedules were different, but I remember you.

We passed in the halls and nodded our Good Mornings. Your flowing dresses, plum colored hair, and black tinted nails a sharp contrast to my crisp lines and sharp edges.

You were vivid.

I think “new” is the best word to describe how I was then. New Minnesotan, new teacher, new mom.

Every week, my lesson plans were thoroughly penned and strictly followed. I wanted to know exactly what to expect – in everything I did.

Motherhood stretched that shade of my skin.

One time, you witnessed this.

Jason brought the girls to school for a visit

Kayli was three-ish and a rule follower, Chloe was one-ish and anything but.

She was mid-tantrum when you walked by.

Belly down, arms flailing, legs kicking, voice rising.

And I? Was lost. Blushing, sweating, tearing. Lost.

I was kneeling next to Chloe when the scent of your perfume, flowers and sunshine and all that is strong, caught me. In return, you caught my eye.

Shoulder back, chin up, smile wide. “Two?” You asked.

“Very.” I answered, brushing a strand of my hair behind one ear when what I really wanted to do was pull it forward, hide behind it.

But you didn’t let me.

You reached for my hand and said, “So been there.” And with one squeeze, you went on, your fuschia parting the way.

I’ve kept that moment of grace wrapped in my heart.

You opened my eyes, didn’t let me take myself too seriously, and reminded me of all that is kindness and all that is grace.

And for that? I thank you, and remember you.

Galit

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The Good Stuff

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I Never Knew…

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This Is Motherhood

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Fear & Anxiety

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Laughter Is My Only Good Advice

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Raising Confident Girls

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We Made It!

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Motherhood

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I’m His Mom

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