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Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Pour Your Heart Out: Magic


His big, gorgeous eyes light up.

A huge grin shows his deep dimples.

As my 3 year-old declares, "It's MAGIC!"

Whether it's the automatic doors opening at the grocery store or the stars in the sky or cookies appearing after a shopping trip he didn't know I made, my youngest is quick to explain it all by saying "It's magic."

He takes such joy in commonplace events. He sees the beauty in the every day. The magic.

No need for explanations as to how things happen or why.

He sees what's around him and delights in it.

Too young to be jaded.

Not too busy to notice the every day magic.

I think I was like that once.

I think we all were.

I wonder when we lose it.

I wonder if we can start to see the magic in the every day again.


Monday, November 28, 2011

Hey, It's Okay

Hey, It's Okay....

To wish for a giant bottle of wine when you are stuck in traffic in the pouring down rain, your fuel light comes on, and a child pukes.

To read a book while your husband drives because watching him drive gives you a panic attack.

To get annoyed when you inform your mother of your plans and she says "That's okay," like you need her permission to do anything.

To wish your family could be a little more subtle about which of your children is their favorite or better yet, for them not to actually have a favorite.

To think the sweet potato casserole you made for Thanksgiving dinner was the best thing on the table.

To think your sister needs to chill the F out when it comes to her son.

To be jealous of your sil's amazing weight loss.

To feel a little left out when your siblings talk about all the things that they do together when you aren't there.

To miss your friends and wish you could spend more time with them than your family when you are visiting back home.

To be relieved to be back in your own bed after a long trip.

To know that you probably won't ever catch up with all you missed when you were out of town for a long trip and decide not to even try. It's okay if the delete button is your friend and you just start over fresh.

Joining in with Amber at Airing My Dirty Laundry for Hey, It's Okay: "I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your blog. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either. Just make sure you link up!"


Friday, November 25, 2011

Things They Can't Say About Parenting

With the holiday this week, we're trying something different for the Things They Can't Say feature. Last week, over on my facebook page, I asked you to tell me a hard truth, something you don't always like to admit, about parenting(in just 1-3 sentences). Below are some of the responses.

Having a newborn and three year old has been very overwhelming. So much so that twice this week I have forgotten to buckle my three year old in his car seat! Not proud of this...ugh!

Sometimes I wonder if I would be a more effective parent if my kids were afraid of me. If they had more fear of what might happen if they misbehaved.

I prayed for the summer to be over and for school to arrive so I could send my youngest away for 2 hours a day. His constant whining at me and crying over nothing exhaust me, and I desperately needed a break from him!
-Victoria, The First Day

I can't talk about my parenting disagreements with my husband. We are in a different camp on everything and it's breaking us apart into tiny pieces.
-Tracy, Sellabitmum

Some days, I just want a whole day to myself and on those days, being with my son all day is hard. I feel guilty just thinking it.

From working with kids for years I thought I knew it all and parenting would be easy, but I have been proven wrong. There have been many days, especially with my son, when I don't know why he's acting a certain way or why something hurts. I am terrified something is wrong with him.
-Evonne, Jules Outloud

I'm terrified of leaving my girl- emotionally and/or physically- the way so many other "parents" in my immediate family have left their kids (at one point or another). I pray i'm the exception, but am terrified of history repeating itself.
-Christina, Finally Mom

I struggle with guilt over my postpartum. Im hoping and praying Im not screwing my kids up, because I have issues.

I wish there was a way to have it all, be a good mom, wife and woman without giving up little parts of myself. I worry I'm too selfish to be a mom sometimes.

Your kids won't remember that the house was perfect. They will remember the time you spent with them. Priorities!

I find myself showing less and less affection to my older child, I don't know if it's a mix of because she's getting older and how I don't really show affection to people in general (not a touchy/feely person). I hug, kiss, and snuggle up to the baby like crazy, but as much to the big kid and I feel SO guilty & often hate myself for it.

I have always worried that I will turn into my Mom as I get older with the way that I interact with my child and my husband. Now I am scared that I really AM turning into her. . . It's not the person I want to be.

I don't always like my job as mom or my kids! Horrible? I know BUt being the single parent right now (for a year!) is tough in a lot of ways.

parenting is hard enough without having to navigate MY parents' unsolicited "advice" or "concerns" about my children. You had your turn. Keep it to yourself now.
-Christine, Quasi Agitato

I have an 11 y/o girl & 5 3/4 y/o boy and I still struggle daily with how much I need to do FOR them vs. how much I should encourage them to do for themselves. I want to raise capable people without putting too much on them as children.
-Jennifer, Just Jennifer

I know my son acts out sometimes because I don't give him enough attention, but I still find it hard to pay full attention for as long as I should.

Out I lied about being a more patient mom after already raising a pack of kids. My daughter who is being raised as an only, gets the short end of the stick a lot because, well because my stick is worn down to a nub.

somedays i dont like my son. like really,dont like him. maybe he is too much like me?

Identify with any of  these statements?  Go  visit someone new. 
Comments are off. 


Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Pour Your Heart Out: I Don't Want To

Welcome to Pour Your Heart Out- if you need more info on how to participate, check out THIS post. But it's personal- it's what YOU think is pouring your heart out. Please grab the PYHO button or link back in your post if you are participating.

Again, just a brief reminder that everyone linking is pouring their hearts out and we should all be respectful in our comments. ;)

Sometimes, I just don't want to talk about it.

About the things that are stressing me out.

While venting can help and writing things down sometimes makes me see things in a new light, there are times when I just don't want to

Instead, I want to bury my head in the sand or put my hands over my ears and sing lalalalala or smile and pretend it's all okay. 

So, that's what I'm going to do today. 

It might not do anything to help any of the situations weighing on me. 

But, it will get me through the next few days. 

And maybe, just maybe, things will get better. 

For that hope, I am thankful. 

Please note: I'm visiting with family over the next few days. If you don't get an immediate visit or response, know I'll be back next week



Tuesday, November 22, 2011

A Taste of Top Chef at Home

I am a Top Chef fanatic.

Not only do I have to watch every episode, but I'll rewatch them, knowing who wins and who loses, so that I can dissect the show and see what led to the results.

Fabio Viviani is my all-time favorite Top Chef contestant. He follows me on twitter. Squeeeee!!!

The newest Top Chef is just getting started this season. As I watch, I always think I wish I could be a judge.  To get to try all that yummy food!

I'm pretty adventurous and will try anything.

But, I'll admit that my food at home tends not to have the variety in it that I would like. Especially lunch. My oldest two are at school for lunch, the youngest gone for two days of the week, and Hubs always at work. So, I'm either making lunch just for me or for me and a 3 year-old.

I tend to reach for whatever is easy and quick.

Yogurt and fruit some days, soup another, and I'll try different frozen meals.

Thanks to The Motherhood, I was able to try the new Healthy Choice Top Chef Inspired Café Steamers. Top Chef? Oh yes, I'll try!

I tasted the Grilled Vegetables Mediterranean with Rice and Grilled Chicken Marinara with Parmesan.  Both were tasty. They do seem to have more flavor than your average frozen meal.

Nothing like what you'd eat if you had one of the Top Chefs cooking for you in your kitchen(Fabio, want to come test that theory?), but if you are looking for a quick meal, try these new Healthy Choice meals. At just $2.75 - $3.50 each, they beat eating out!

For more info, you can check out www.healthychoice.com or www.bravotv.com/showdown.

This is a sponsored post from The Motherhood and Healthy Choice, though the opinions and Fabio-love are my own.


Monday, November 21, 2011

The First Thanksgiving

According to my 5 year-old and his adorable poem for Tuesday morning's Thanksgiving Chapel service at his school. Let's hope he slows it down a little bit and isn't quite as distracted while he's up on stage. Oh, and that he doesn't forget the verse about having the Thanksgiving feast....

Here they are, my #kidstalkinturkey:


Vlog Talk

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Dear Santa, Toys NOT to Deliver to My House

My boys have Christmas wish lists longer than they are tall.

It seems they want everything that they see in a store or on tv.

While Santa usually does a great job at bringing them enough toys to make my boys happy while still leaving us room to walk through our house, there are a few toys that Santa needs to know are NOT WELCOME in our home.

1. Stompeez

In case you have missed this infomercial, these are slippers that do things when kids walk in them. Like the mouth opens on the alligator, ears pop up on a bunny, etc. But, my boys don't even like to wear shoes, let alone slippers. I could see them wearing these for a few minutes and literally STOMPING around my house, getting them to work. Then, the Stompeez would end up in their toy room, just adding to the clutter. All for the low price of $20. No thanks.

2. Doggie Doo

This thing makes "gassy noises" aka farts until poop plops out of its butt. Playdoh poop, but still. And the winner is the one who cleans up after the dog three time. Seriously? Playing with dog poop is fun? My boys already think farts and poop are hilarious. I'm trying to discourage it, not encourage it.

3. Flush! Game

A game where you have to put things into the toilet before it flushes and gets you all wet. I can see my boys trying to play a version of this with the toilet in their bathroom. Plus, imagine all the potty talk this will encourage. Again: NO THANKS.

Just in case your kids need more encouragement to beat the snot out of each other. Mine certainly don't.

What is on your list of most undesirable toys this year? 

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Friday, November 18, 2011

Things They Can't Say: Holly's House

I think I stumped this week's featured blogger at first, because there's not much she can't say. She's snarky and hilarious... and has a big heart under it all. Please welcome Holly of Holly's House: Not a Perfect Mom's Blog.

I'm not ashamed of anything I've ever done in my life...

I honestly think all of life's experiences happen for a reason, whether it's to learn, to grow, or just to have a good time...

That being said, there are a few things in my past I'd prefer my kids to never find out about...you know, because I'm the mommy...and mommies make good choices...

And so this is a list perfect for the Always So Lovely Shell, the things I can't say on my blog...the things I never want my kids to know I did...

1. I was suspended my senior year of high school for a week after passing out drunk at a football game and being taken away in an ambulance. As a result my principal nicknamed me Chugs for the rest of year*...

2. After my mother gave me the okay to pierce my ears 18 times, my tongue, my nose, my bellybutton, and allowed me to get a Marilyn**, she put her foot down at the thought of her 15 year old daughter walking around with nipple rings...so I went to my piercers house and had him do it on the sly without her knowing...

3. I had a fake ID I used to get into clubs and drink before I was legally allowed to even be in there...

4. I vowed to never have children...

5. I lost my virginity on my 14th birthday, something I never ever want my daughters to know...

6. When I was 19 I started dancing at a gentlemen's establishment under the name Mackenzie simply because I had perky breasts and no one to tell me it wasn't a good idea...

7. I never tried in school, A's and B's came naturally with little to no effort...I want my kids to push themselves to do the best can...

8. I dabbled with bulimia all throughout middle school...

9. I hit a pregnant coworker's car when I was 17 and totally scraped up the side, but drove away and parked across the lot...I was scared I would get grounded and my cool 1987 Astro van would be taken away...

10. I have a favorite child***...

So there you have it...the things I can't say on my page...but all things that have made me the fabulously awesome person I am today...

*my mother actually got a kick out of that, especially since I was a straight A-never even had a lunch detention kind of student...

**a diamond stud where Marilyn Monroe had her mole

***please! what kind of person do you think I am!? Of course I don't have a favorite child...I just like a well rounded out list so I made up the last one...

Please leave Holly some comment love here and then go follow her blog Holly's House. You can also find her on facebook and twitter @notaperfectmama.

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Thursday, November 17, 2011

What Would You Wish For?

If you could be visited by a wish-granting fairy, what would you wish for?

Enough with the peace on earth stuff, nice as that would be. This fairy wants to give you something tangible. Or at least, something that can be bought.

I made a wish in the comments over on a friend's blog and then the Fairy Hobmother came over to my blog and decided to grant my wish.

Well, sort of. I was a little greedy and wished for something huge(if you have heard me whining about my broken dishwasher, you can probably guess what my wish was).

And while this is a generous fairy, the wishes have to be spread around to others. But, the Fairy did give me a $100 gift card to Amazon. Which I will try really hard not to spend all on Kindle books.

But now the Fairy Hobmother is going to visit one of you and grant one of your wishes!

You can wish for something big, you can wish for a gift card like mine, you can wish for something you need like new laundry baskets(hey, whatever floats your boat), or you can even wish for a donation to a special charity.

All you have to do is leave a comment with your wish and the Fairy Hobmother will come visit one of you and grant your wish! If you aren't sure if your profile links back to your blog, be sure to select comment as Name/url for easy finding by the fairy.

The Fairy Hobmother is spreading some cheer and granting wishes this holiday season and also showing us where to find large capacity fridge freezers. She's a multi-tasking fairy.

After you make your wish in your comment below, be sure to head over to my facebook page and find the post from this morning about how you can be included in next week's Things They Can't Say! Going to try something a little different during the holiday weekend and I hope you will join in!

Please note: The Fairy Hobmother visited Jayme from The Random Blogette, so I'm going to close comments on this post. Here's hoping y'all find a little fairy magic this holiday season!


Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Pour Your Heart Out: Trust Your Gut, Not Gossip

Welcome to Pour Your Heart Out- if you need more info on how to participate, check out THIS post. But it's personal- it's what YOU think is pouring your heart out. Please grab the PYHO button or link back in your post if you are participating.

Again, just a brief reminder that everyone linking is pouring their hearts out and we should all be respectful in our comments. ;)


Some of my very best friends are people I've met blogging.

Some I've met in person: at blog conferences or meet-ups.

Some I've yet to meet- yet through reading each others' blogs, emailing, fb-ing, emailing, skyping, texting, etc., I feel like we know each other.

You feel like friends. You ARE friends.


When you look at the blogosphere as a whole, it's different than if we all lived in the same neighborhood.

We don't run into each other dropping our kids off at school or have a weekly girls' night out.

We all occupy the blogosphere, but we don't all run into each other.

While I might see one side of a blogger, you might see another. Or maybe you don't know them at all. Or you mention someone that you talk to on a daily basis and it's someone I've only tweeted with once.

So, we're all in the same space and yet have different experiences with each other.

Sometimes... those experiences are not all positive.

Yet, we have to remember that we don't see the whole picture. We don't have a clue what kind of day someone is having that might cause them to say something they don't mean. Or what kind of week they are having that they are seemingly ignoring us when really, they are just buried.

Plus, we can't read tone. We can read something as fact when it's really sarcastic. Or as arrogant or unfeeling. As we get to know each other, we learn to read each other's tone.

And then there is what we hear from others about someone else. Their experience with reading someone's blog or what they feel is a hurtful comment or maybe it's a lack of comments. An email exchange, a tweet, or even a blog conference run-in.

When it's coming from someone that we feel we "know" online, we might even believe them. And end up not liking someone because of something that they said. Or even worse, something that a friend of a friend of ours said about someone.

Hold up, y'all.

We left that all behind in junior high, didn't we?

Or at least, we should have.

Instead of judging someone based on one experience that we may have misread or listening to someone else's opinion, I suggest this: go with your gut, not the gossip.

You might be missing out on a fabulous friendship if you don't take the time to get to know someone on your own.

Or maybe you'll find that person isn't someone you can count among your friends. And that's okay. It's a big blogosphere: we don't all have to be best friends.

But, there's no need to spread the hate.


Monday, November 14, 2011

Someone Else Be the Adult, Please

A long checklist. So many questions.

I hated every box I had to check and every "If yes, please explain" that I had to fill out.

It felt like I was admitting defeat and signing someone's life away.

The thick survey had been sitting on my bedside table for weeks now and I'd been ignoring it. But, since my kindergartener has his psychologist appointment tomorrow and the filled out paperwork has to go with us, I finally went through it all.

Even though I know that we are helping our son, especially after the absolutely horrendous week he had last week, who wants to have to check a box next to descriptors like "has wild mood swings?"

Not me. Someone else take care of this.

Someone else be the adult.

While we're at it, could someone else please: 

Come wash the dishes since our dishwasher broke and handwashing dishes is my least favorite chore ever.

Match up all those orphan socks. I'd much rather have everyone wear their crocs or flip flops than deal with the socks.

Exercise for me so I can chow down on some cheese fries and still fit into my favorite jeans.

Pay the electric bill so I can buy that fabulous pair of shoes I've been eyeing instead.

Get my kids ready and to school on time so I can sleep in for once.

Figure out what we're having for dinner tonight. And deliver it to my house.

Break up fight #5 between my boys today.

Because I don't wanna.

How easy we had it when we were kids. Of course, we were clueless then.

So much of what we have to do is not a big deal in and of itself. But, when you add up all those little things and then throw in a huge problem or two, this whole adult thing is not so easy.

I'd like a day off from being an adult, please.

What responsibility would you gladly give up today? 

Friday, November 11, 2011

Things They Can't Say: The Adventures of Daddy Runs a Lot

In the almost 18 months that I've had a Friday guest, I've only featured one other guy besides today's feature. Because for the most part, this is a community of women. But, it's nice to hear from the "other side" now and then. And today's guest fits in so well in the mom blog world. Please welcome John from The Adventures of Daddy Runs a Lot.

On the whole, I'm not a worrier. Typically, if I am worried about something, we've moved beyond the point where worrying would be proper and we've moved onto the stage where worrying is useless and action is required.

But, lately, I've found myself worrying. More specifically, about two years ago, I started worrying. What's worse is that I've been worrying about stuff that, well, you absolutely can't control. Worrying, typically, is useless . . . but, sometimes you worry over something and you come up with a plan to actually change the course of the thing you're worrying about. But, there are tons of things that will just play out - and worrying about them is just pointless. Of course, it's those things that I worry about.

I worry about my job. I worry about the number of hours that I spend working it. I worry about losing it and how I'd provide for my family. And I worry, just as much, about keeping this job for forever, because I don't have the "this isn't really work, but I get paid for it" vibe that I once convinced myself that I'd have . . . and that I hope my children grow up knowing.

I worry that the line between "daddy" and "husband" gets blurred and lost.

I worry that I don't do enough at home. I worry more that I find myself longing for "peace and quiet and just a minute to myself" when I am at home. So, there are times that I get home and try to do everything - and long more and more for just that minute of silence. And, once that minute of silence is attained, I worry that I'm being reclusive.

I worry when I reach for a beer or a glass of wine - both in the fact that I might not have any more beer or wine, or that there's some part of me that feels that I need it.

I worry that something will happen to me, and my kids won't remember me. So, I work out in the extreme early morning, and over lunches, to try to make myself as strong and healthy as possible.

I worry that my "five year plan" is nothing more than "let's wait and see," but, honestly, I can't see much past the next week.

I worry that I'll lose my phone, and with it, lose any track of the weekend commitments I've made to my band, or couples getting married, or community theaters needing a musician. You'd think I'd keep better track of my calendar because of this (ask me, some day, about my photo backup strategy if you want to see a fully anal-retentive John), but I trust worry to do it all.

I worry about my two year old son not speaking yet. I worry that he's well on his way to becoming a superstar athlete, and I worry about the constant worry I'll face about him getting hurt because that.

I worry about the speed at which my daughter figures things out, and the way that, even at 17 months old, she's quite clear about what she does not want. I worry about her being far smarter and more motivated than I am.

I worry about my kids having their hearts broken.

I worry that I'm not doing enough for their future educations.

I worry about my kids finding out just what kind of student I was.

I worry about my kids becoming fans of the Dallas Cowboys. Or worse, the Oakland Raiders.

I worry about the way I eat when I worry, which makes me want to reach for another donut, which makes me worry more, which makes me daydream of nachos.

I worry that I now want nachos. Badly. And maybe some wine. After a donut, of course.

Please leave John some comment love here and then go follow The Adventures of Daddy Runs a Lot. You can also find him on twitter @daddyrunsalot

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Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Pour Your Heart Out: Remind Me

Welcome to Pour Your Heart Out- if you need more info on how to participate, check out THIS post. But it's personal- it's what YOU think is pouring your heart out. Please grab the PYHO button or link back in your post if you are participating.

Again, just a brief reminder that everyone linking is pouring their hearts out and we should all be respectful in our comments. ;)


"Now we keep saying that we're okay
But I don't want to settle for good not great"

Hubs and I have been married for almost nine years. Nine years, three kids, countless moves, ups and downs. 

So easy to get caught up in the day to day, taking of care what has to be done, what is the most urgent, that we don't take care of us. 

Not when there are kids, work, housework, and all that day-to-day STUFF to take care of. Things that seem urgent. All the grown-up responsibilities. 

We try really hard to make time for each other. 

Shutting down the computers at a certain time, kids in bed early. Monthly date nights. Never ending a conversation without saying "I love you." 


"Oh, so on fire, so in love
That look in your eyes that I miss so much"

What happened to those nights when we stayed out til 4am talking at the beach? 

The way he used to look at me.

That feeling like we were the only two people on earth.

Knowing with just a glance that we were in love.

Holding hands everywhere we went.

"I wanna feel that way
Yeah, I wanna hold you close
Oh, if you still love me
Don't just assume I know
Baby, remind me, remind me"

I have absolute faith in Hubs, in our marriage.

We are stronger together than we are apart. 

He has my heart, my respect, my loyalty, my love.

But, maybe it's time for a little more romance. 

What do you do when you start feeling like a boring old married couple?

Lyrics from "Remind Me" in case that's not obvious.

I've also written about how Romance is Overrated. Yes, I seem to have multiple personalities.


Monday, November 7, 2011

School Bus VS Mom Taxi

When my oldest started kindergarten last year, I wasn't worried about how he would do in school or if he would get lost or if the day was too long for him: I knew he'd be fine.

But, one thing that did worry me was the bus. 

I had all sorts of concerns: would my child get on the right bus? Would he get off at the right stop? Would there be bullies? 

I decided I'd drive my son to school because we had to go past it on my way to drop off the preschooler. But, in the afternoons, pick-up was in the middle of my youngest's naptime.

The school is only about a half mile from our house: if the road between our neighborhood and the school weren't such a twisted back road, he'd probably be a walker.

The school pick up line was long and my youngest was a giant crab if I woke him up from his nap. So, my oldest started riding the bus home.

After about a month, he started telling me stories about mean fifth graders who tried to get him to give them his lunchbox and another child who spit on him while they were waiting to board the bus- and the teacher who waved him off when he tried to tell her. He said he didn't have any friends on the bus.

And then my youngest decided he'd give up naps. So, I began picking up my child every day. 

This year, with my crazy drop-off/pick-up schedule of having three kids in three different schools, all with various pick-up times with lots of lag time in between each, I asked my now first grader if he'd like to ride the bus home. And make my life easier as I was already a crazy mom-taxi the rest of the day.

But he was adamant that he did NOT want anything to do with the bus. I sighed, rolled my eyes, and tried to bribe him otherwise.

Until I realized that whatever, it's not a big deal, I'll keep picking him up.

So, imagine my surprise last week when he asked me if he could start riding the bus home.

I did a little dance of glee and told him of course.

Even though on the second day of him riding the bus home, the bus driver didn't see him: the school bus went roaring past my house without stopping to let my child off. I called the school, where they told me that my son wasn't there, that the bus must be dropping him off and not to panic.

The bus did drop him off, but it was after finishing the rest of the route- my son was the last one to get off the bus instead of one of the first. 

I was starting to freak out and yet, he thought it was awesome. Plus, he told me that now he has friends on the bus and he likes riding it.

But, when he got home on Friday on time this time, he informed me that he got his ice cream, so he was done riding the bus. 


Apparently, the buses had had some sort of competition the week before, with the winning bus getting an ice cream treat on the way home one day this week. And the bus that goes through my neighborhood had won. 

My little sneak had heard about this and decided he wanted in on the reward. Thus, his request to ride the bus home. 

But, now that the reward was given, he was over the bus and wants me to pick him up again. 

Sorry, pal... ain't gonna happen. 

Do your kids ride the bus or do you play mom-taxi? 


Friday, November 4, 2011

Things They Can't Say: Letters for Lucas

This week's featured blogger is Tonya, who writes beautiful, heartfelt posts at Letters for Lucas.

Just Us

He brought home flowers last week.

White and yellow gerbera daisies.

They made me smile.

The flowers were a very small token of his generosity and his concern for my mental and physical well-being.

As I lay on the table with needles stuck all over my body, trying to calm my mind and visualize healthy eggs and a new wonderful addition to our family, all I could think was: when was the last time I told him I loved him?

Isn't that awful?

I couldn't remember the last time I spoke the words: I love you to my husband. It must have been on the phone yesterday. Our calls always end with an "I love you". But when was the last time I said it to his face?

I'm a terrible person.

Sometimes I feel as though I am a much better mother than I am a wife.

Our two-year-old son, Lucas always comes first.

But the two of us? We come and go like two ships passing in the night.

Lucas consumes the majority of our time together, leaving very little left over for just us.

Our conversations are about our son, the latest funny thing he’s said or done, an outing we have planned, his days at pre-school. We spend a lot of time sitting cross-legged on the floor laughing, singing and playing with cars and trains, puzzles and Play-Doh. He brings so much joy and goodness to our lives.

As of late, our attention has also been focused on adding to our family: fertility treatments, fertility expenses and fertility appointments.

As I tried to relax I knew exactly where I was headed after my acupuncture appointment was over.

I desperately needed to see my husband. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him.

I needed him to know that no matter what the doctor told us today, no matter what life had in store for us that I loved him and we would be okay.

We would be okay and I would be okay.

It may take time, but we would figure out what to do next.


We have faced worse.

We are strong.

And we are lucky, so very lucky.

I love you.

As soon as the needles had been removed, my next session scheduled, I said all that and much more.

Letters For Lucas
Please leave Tonya some comment love here and then go follow Letters for Lucas. You can also find her on twitter @letters4lucas and on facebook.

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Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Pour Your Heart Out: How Many Glasses Is Too Many?

Welcome to Pour Your Heart Out- if you need more info on how to participate, check out THIS post. But it's personal- it's what YOU think is pouring your heart out. Please grab the PYHO button or link back in your post if you are participating.

Again, just a brief reminder that everyone linking is pouring their hearts out and we should all be respectful in our comments. ;)

Starting in the afternoon on any given day on twitter, you will see tweets like these:

Is it 5:00 yet?

Can't wait for #wine o'clock!

Kids driving me crazy. #sendwine

I see tweets like that every day.

Hell, I SEND tweets like that a lot, too.

It's not any secret that I love my wine. And my fruity drinks. And the occasional Corona.

I tend to joke that I'm not really a lush, I just play one on twitter.

But, it's not really a joke for some. For some, it's a real problem.

I've seen how addiction can tear a family apart. I've lived with addicts.

My father is an addict. He started out addicted to prescription pain meds after having multiple surgeries in a short period of time. Addiction is addiction, even if it's "just" prescription meds. While he wasn't really a drinker, he did occasionally sneak a beer when he couldn't get something else. And yes, sometimes that was while he was driving us kids.

He made various claims throughout the years about being clean and sober, but my brothers and I always knew the truth. It's the main reason that my children don't know him at all: why I haven't spoken to him in over 5 years. It was one thing for me to tolerate his behavior, but I will not expose my own children to it.

My stepfather is a recovering alcoholic. Yes, he still says "recovering" even though it's been over 30 years since he last had a drink. He's an amazing man and as far as my kids are concerned, is their only "Grandpa" on my side of the family.

So, yes: I've seen what addiction can do.

I'm the daughter of an addict and the stepdaughter of an addict and yet: I drink.

It might be as frequent as several glasses a week. Or maybe it's just one glass twice a month. Or maybe I'm taking part in some rare girls' weekend away and it's more than that.

But I know that I do not drink too much.

I know that I'm not in danger of becoming an alcoholic.

I'm honest with myself and know my own limits.

A daughter of an addict CAN drink responsibly the same way that someone with no family history of substance abuse can become an alcoholic.

Just remember that if you see me tweeting "Thank God it's bedtime! #MamaNeedsWine" I might only mean it as much as I mean "Dear @gypsies, now accepting offers for my children. #CheapRates."