• the one about if my daughter was anna duggar

    August 23, 2015 /

    I’ll admit it.

    I kind of used to love watching TLC’s 19 Kids and Counting. I would turn it on in the mornings while I was getting some work done around the house, and I wouldn’t be worried about my children passing by the television because there was no nudity, profanity, suggestive innuendos, or violence. It seemed safe to me, and my girls enjoyed seeing all the children laughing, playing, and interacting with each other.

    When we decided to scrap our extended cable channels in exchange for Netflix and Hulu, I was a little bummed that I wouldn’t be able to catch up with the Duggars on a daily basis.

    But, life moved on and the world kept turning.

    That is, until the first wave of the Josh Duggar scandal made the news. Yes, when the public learned of Josh Duggar inappropriately touching some of his sisters when he was 14 or 15 years old, the world seemed to stop turning or flip on its axis or both. It seemed like everyone had something to say about it. Non-Christians used it as a way to prove that Christians are just a bunch of self-righteous hypocrites. Christians used it as a way to defend forgiveness and salvation. Many (far too many) used it as a punchline of a joke.

    After a little while, the dust settled. The media moved on. Donald Trump happened.

    Josh Duggar was nearly out of the headlines when a new story emerged. After a data leak at Ashley Madison (an eHarmony for married cheaters, if you will), we all learned that Josh Duggar was a paying member, and had been for quite some time.

    Yes, Josh Duggar was actively searching for extra-marital affairs. And not only searching…he was paying to find them.

    Married. Father of four (his newest baby was born earlier this summer). So desperate to cheat on his wife that he was willing to pay nearly $1,000 for the privilege.

    Without going into too much detail, I wanted to share a little of what he was “searching” for.

    According to his alleged profile, he was wanting someone “professional.” Someone “stylish.” A “casual jeans and t-shirt type.” He liked “short hair” and a “take charge type.”

    If you’ve even watched five minutes of the show, you’d know that his wife is not known for her style, short hair, or take charge attitude. She doesn’t wear jeans (just skirts), and she isn’t a professional in a career sense of the word.

    So, basically, he was looking for the opposite of the person he married (on television). He wanted the antithesis of the person he waited to kiss (on television) until she shared his last name.

    I wonder how this (ANY of this) makes her feel?

    Yes, her.

    Anna.

    The one who isn’t a household name. The one who isn’t on the front page of the tabloids. The one who is most likely suffering immeasurable pain and betrayal at the hands of the man she loves the most.

    The one who is probably, in some way, blaming herself for his actions. Wondering what she did “wrong” or how she could have prevented it. Wondering why she wasn’t “enough.”

    Anna has a mom. I have seen her on TV.

    But I feel like I want to be Anna’s Mama Bear.

    Maybe it’s all the mornings I spent watching her teach and encourage her children so sweetly, or maybe it’s the fact that I witnessed the birth of 3 of her children (including the one on the toilet– thanks, TLC).

    I just feel like I know her.

    And if my daughter was Anna Duggar, this is precisely what I would tell her.

    Anna,

    You weren’t enough.

    For him, you weren’t enough.

    And you would never be enough.

    Call it sickness. Call it addiction. Call it just being an unfaithful asshole.

    But you would never have been enough for him.

    All the beauty. All the “professionalism.” All the jeans and t-shirts in the world.

    He would still be searching for something else. Someone else.

    And thank God your value was never dependent on his ability to see your worth.

    People are going to tell you that you’re trapped. They are going to tell you that because you don’t have a college education or a job, you are trapped in this miserable situation. That because you chose to stay home with your children, you have no way out. That this should serve as a cautionary tale to all other housewives– when your husband commits unthinkable acts, make sure you have a college degree and a career so you can stand on your own two feet.

    But when you said your marriage vows and when you agreed that you would be the daily caretaker for your children, you didn’t think you’d be standing in this mess, did you? This doesn’t make you a fool. This makes you a committed wife and mother who had no reason to believe your husband would betray you in this way.

    You’re no different than any other wife who stands hopeful at the altar. Not many of us look into our groom’s eyes and think of our escape plan for when it all goes to shit.

    You’re not unintelligent, Anna. No, you don’t have a college degree, but I have one, and none of my professors taught me how to pick up the pieces of my life once it had been shattered into a billion shards of pointy glass. My college degree would mean nothing to me if I were standing in your shoes.

    Yes, you were raised conservatively. You only dated one man before you committed yourself to him for the rest of your life. You didn’t shop around. You didn’t play the field. You fell in love at a young age and could see no other way. This doesn’t mean you were naive. It doesn’t mean you were stupid. It doesn’t mean your parents “sheltered” you too much. It means you were raised with a set of morals and values that you believed would not let you down.

    I can only imagine the struggle you feel right now. Do you stay and honor the marriage vows you took before God (and a nationally televised audience), or do you leave?

    No matter what, it will be the hardest decision you will ever make. And everyone will have an opinion on it, guaranteed.

    All I ask, Anna, is that no matter what you choose, you stand while you do it.

    Stand up, Anna.

    And don’t stand behind this flawed and pathetic man.

    Stand in front of him.

    Make the headlines about you.

    Make them about your strength, your dignity, your resilience.

    Let everyone know who Anna is. That she is not a victim of her circumstance, of her upbringing, or of her religious beliefs. Let them see that none of these things put her in the position she is in right now, and none of these things will keep her from doing exactly as she damn. well. pleases.

    Let the world see that a woman’s worth is not measured by college degrees or high paying jobs or whether or not her husband can remain faithful.

    Let the world see that a family’s crisis is not a punchline. It’s not a meme. It’s real. It’s painful. It’s messy. It’s raw.

    Let the world see that a woman can be a Christian homemaker who gives birth in her own bathroom, but she can be a force to be reckoned with and won’t be humiliated.

    Stand up, Anna.

    Your daughters are watching you.

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  • the one about how I hate packing lunches

    August 13, 2015 /

    As you know by now, my oldest daughter has started Kindergarten. The process of starting “official school” has brought about many changes in our household.

    First, because she attends a private Catholic school, she wears a uniform everyday. There will be days when  she can wear what she wants, but so far, each day has been a uniform day.

    I know many who turn their noses up at uniforms, stating that they remove the individuality from the child and force them to look like everyone else. I get that, I do, but uniforms have made my life significantly easier and less dramatic.

    My children have beautiful clothes. Really, there’s nothing they own that makes me cringe when they wear it (otherwise, why would we own it?). However, there are things that are best not to be worn to school. And those things, without fail, are the things my daughter would LOVE to wear to school.

    Thank you, Uniform, for sparing that aztec-legging under the floral dress with the giant popsicle stain power struggle.

    Another change for our house is preparing a school lunch for her daily. We are allowing her to eat a school lunch once per week, but the other days are lunch box days. The only problem with this is that I abso-freaking-lutely hate packing lunches. HATE.

    For whatever reason, I just find the task to be daunting (first world problem, I know). I refuse to do it in the morning because we never wake up early enough to avoid the inevitable cluster that is the final five minutes before departure. Then, often times I am too tired to pack anything worthwhile the night before. Truly, it is a crapshoot if I am going to brush my teeth before I go to bed, so packing a lunch that is anything more than a box of Cheerios with a note that says “Love, Mama” slapped on it is kind of asking too much.

    I decided to find a way to make packing lunches less of a chore. I took to Pinterest (duh) and found a few promising ideas. I decided to give one a try, and I am so happy I did!

    I combined a few ideas and came up with something that has been an absolute life saver. I literally don’t have to think about packing lunches, and most of the time, Noelle can pack her lunch herself.

    I purchased mini plastic crates from Target, 3/$3.99, and some plastic baggies. I determined that one bin would be for “Starches/Salty Snacks,” another bin would be for “Sweet Treats,” another bin would be for “Cheese/Yogurt,” another for “Meat/Protein,” one bin for “Fruit,” and a final bin for “Veggies.”

    The bins that do not need to be refrigerated sit on my counter. They are stackable, so they don’t take up a lot of space. For the refrigerated items, I cleared a spot in my refrigerator and also used one of the crisper drawers in the bottom.

    (I tried to take photos of this system, but my kitchen does not photograph well!)

    I then filled the bins with 2 choices for each category. To start with, I placed appropriately portioned baggies of popcorn and pita chips in the “Starches/Salty Snacks” bin. For “Sweet Treats,” I measured out serving sizes of chocolate covered yogurt raisins and trail mix into snack baggies. Her “Cheese/Yogurt” choices were Chobani yogurt tubes or Babybel cheese. For “Meat/Protein,” I placed two pieces of salami in a baggie and hard boiled a few eggs. Her “Fruit” choices were baggies of grapes or strawberries. Her “Veggies” were baggies of baby carrots or celery with light ranch dressing cups to dip.

    She can choose one option from each bin and pack her lunch herself. It took me approximately 45 minutes on a Sunday to baggie up enough food for two weeks’ worth of school lunches. It takes her less than 2 minutes to pack her lunch herself, and she enjoys the job. By giving her healthy choices, I know that no matter what she chooses, she is packing herself a healthy lunch.

    Once all of our bins are empty, I will refill them with new options. She knows that I also won’t add more of one choice simply because she ate all of that one choice first. For example, she ate all of the baggies of grapes first, so I will not add more grapes until she eats the baggies of strawberries.

    The one thing I don’t care for is the amount of plastic baggies we use in this system, but I am having her bring all of her plastic baggies home in her lunch box, except for the ones with sticky fruit in them, and I will try to reuse them a couple times before throwing them away. We try to recycle and be as environmentally friendly as possible, so there might be another way to replace the baggies. For now, this is working for us.

    What I love about this is that it is cost effective (I am estimating each day’s lunch costs less than $2).

    It is time efficient. As long as you have an extra 45 minutes or so on the weekend to wash and cut fruit and vegetables and bag up the other items, you can save yourself a lot of time and chaos throughout the week.

    It is healthy. My daughter is obsessed with one day receiving a “real” Lunchable, but at $3 each and not the greatest nutrition facts, I just can’t justify it. This way of packing lunches puts her in control of “choosing,” even though I have done the guesswork for her. She feels like she is taking control of her lunch, and I am happy that no matter what she chooses, they will be nutritious.

    It gets us off the PB&J hamster wheel. I love a good PB&J. I really, really do. But we simply were not thinking of anything else to feed our children, and I realized that there are other (and better) options out there. For a peanut butter fix, I can add peanut butter in small containers for her to dip her celery in, or we can save it for the weekends. A lot of schools are not wanting kids to bring peanut butter in their lunches anyway because of the allergy risk.

    I have created a chart that I will be using when I am trying to think of new ideas to add to the bins. Feel free to download and use it, too! Just click the image and right click to save it! What would you add to the mix?

    Now…if I could only convince her to sleep in her uniform the night before…

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  • the one about the trouble with babies

    July 30, 2015 /

    Babies.

    Full of trouble, babies are.

    They keep us awake at night. And then just when we think we are going to sneak in a nap, they keep us awake during the day, too.

    They cry. Early on, they cannot communicate their needs and wants very well, so crying is their method of choice.

    And then they start talking. Which is great, but then the talking turns to whining. And asking 3,582 questions an hour.

    Babies are stinky. You see colors of poop you didn’t know existed. Before long, you become that mom who lifts the baby’s bottom to nose level, take a big whiff, and determine what deed has been done.

    Babies are expensive. We buy any $35 trinket marketed for better sleep or less fussiness or higher intelligence. We buy expensive strollers and diapers and car seats and nursery sets and diapers and clothes and toys and swings and diapers and bouncers and diapers.

    But none of this is the trouble.

    No, definitely not.

    The trouble with babies is that they grow.

    They start off so small. We fall in love with the tiny feet and tiny hands and tiny nostrils and tiny butt cheeks. The newborn diapers are so adorable that our new mama hearts explode into rainbow unicorn confetti. The sleepers and onesies are darn near doll-size, and this delights us to no end.

    And then they grow.

    Before long, we are packing away the newborn clothes, crying softly in the attic. Holding up each outfit and remembering the spit-up stains or the occasion for that frilly dress. Some things (a lot of things) still have tags attached because the baby just grew too quickly to wear everything.

    The “Next Size Up” game continues every few months for the next couple of years. Shoes and coats continue to grow larger, too. Before you know it, diapers turn to underwear and your baby just isn’t a baby anymore.

    In the blink of an eye, you’re registering your baby for Kindergarten. That can’t be right, can it? Didn’t you just have that baby? Weren’t you just holding her in your arms, shushing her to sleep? Wasn’t she just babbling her first word and stumbling through her first steps?

    Yes, the trouble with babies is that they grow.

    And that they are terrible listeners, because you’re certain you told her at least a trillion times to stop growing! Don’t get any bigger!

    But she does. She just keeps growing.

    As you begin this next chapter of life, you realize that you will not only witness additional physical growth in your baby, but you will see growth in many other ways.

    Growth in the confidence to meet a new friend, to stand up for someone being picked on, to walk into the school building, alone, without looking back.

    Growth in the courage to try out for a team, to stay all night at a friend’s house, to state an unpopular opinion.

    Growth in knowledge.

    Growth in faith.

    The trouble with babies is that they grow.

    And the trouble with mamas is that we don’t want to let them.

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  • the one about the rebound stitch fix

    July 23, 2015 /

    I think, if my memory serves me correctly, this is my fifth Stitch Fix. I am calling this my “rebound” Stitch Fix because my fix prior to this one was bad. Just bad. I ended up keeping two items from it, which doesn’t sound too terrible (and I do wear the jeans from that fix pretty much round the clock, daily), but the items I didn’t keep were downright yucky.

    My faith in Stitch Fix was wavering. Could I trust it again? Could I get my hopes up, only to be disappointed, again? Would I be able to put the past behind me and move forward in my relationship with Stitch Fix? Have I been a fool all along?

    Well, I had some credit from referrals and a Mother’s Day gift, so I decided to give it another try. I pretty much reamed the stylist in the feedback of the previous fix, which I feel is the only way to really get some different items. You can’t be wishy-washy and say everything was “just OK.” You need to include specific details about what you did and did not like, and it’s ok to throw in words like “horrible” and “disgusting.” It gets the point across.

    I scheduled this most recent fix for the week of my birthday. I thought it would either be a super fun gift to myself, or a huge disappointment, but I was willing to take the risk.

    In her note, the stylist mentioned my birthday and also my Pinterest board, so at least she was attempting to match some items to the ideas I had pinned.

    I asked for fun florals or bright prints and patterns, and I definitely received those this time around. I was pretty pleased at the selection and diversity in the fix. I was given three tops, a fun, flouncy skirt, and a tote bag. I actually really liked the tote and was excited to receive it.

    Most notably, this time, were the prices. I ripped the stylist a new one about the cost of some of the previous items. I believe it was something like $60 for a yellow cotton tank top that I could easily buy at Target for $9.99. I let her know that I was never, ever going to pay that kind of money for an item like that, and I was pleased to see that every item in this fix was under $55, and most of them were under $50. Much better!

    I kept everything this time, and I look forward to continue to rekindle my fire for Stitch Fix in the future. I am thinking of scheduling an early Fall fix in September or so. I also am going to make specific requests for dresses. I have barely any casual dresses that I can wear to teach preschool in or out around running errands. I have acquired quite a few tops and a couple great pairs of jeans via Stitch Fix, and now I’m ready to add some dresses to my wardrobe. I don’t have a great “dress” figure…meaning I have the shape of a boxy major home appliance with no natural waist. It isn’t easy to find dresses that flatter AND do not make people question if I am pregnant or not. I am looking forward to challenging the stylist and am already mentally preparing myself for the experience.

    Here are my items:

    1. Le Lis Truxton Embellished Crew Neck Blouse

    (The color is navy, though it photographs black.)

    I loved this the second I laid eyes on it. I loved the subtle floral pattern, the flowy shape, and the embellished neckline. I really do not wear costume jewelry at all, so this gives the neckline some sparkle without having to wear a necklace. I wore it to my birthday dinner with my husband, and it paired perfectly with my Just Black dark denim jeans I purchased a few fixes ago.

    2. 19 Cooper Astair Abstract Print Blouse

    (You guys. This photo is horribly blurry. Horribly. Once I realized how bad it was, I seriously was too lazy to reshoot it.)

    I was excited to receive an abstract print top. I really love all the geometric, Aztec-type prints right now, and this top not only had a fun print but also a great color. It’s a really great coral-red, and it looks great with jeans. In the style cards, they show this paired with a white pencil skirt. I’m not sure pencil skirts are in my future, but I could do white pants or jeans. This is why I enjoy the style cards– I wouldn’t normally think of that combination.

    3. Fun2Fun Holsten Crochet Trim Blouse

    (Kinda has a granny-chic look to it, right?)

    This is probably the top I was least excited about upon initial inspection. I wasn’t crazy about the print. However, when I tried it on, the little sleeves were very flattering. You have to give everything a chance. You never know if you’re going to surprise yourself by liking something you wouldn’t have looked at twice at the store.

    4. Pixley Hanneli Polka Dot Swing Skirt

    (Before you ask me my diet secrets, please know this skirt is folded in half on the hanger.)

    This skirt is really cute. It’s flowy and flouncy. I think circle skirts are adorable, and this one has a retro feel as well. The stylist actually suggested pairing this with the coral abstract print top…and maybe I will get the guts to try that. Regardless, I felt this skirt would be easy to dress up with heels and jewelry or dress down with sandals and a basic tank top.

    5. Street Level Huron Reversible Magnetic Closure Tote

    (The interior is this ivory color, which it can reverse to. This is the matching coin purse/pouch that came with the bag.)

    While I wasn’t really looking for a tote, I was pleasantly surprised to receive one. I like the size of this tote. It is not too big or overpowering. For me, the larger bag you have, the more crap you throw in it. I am trying to simplify my life, and often I go out with just my wallet and no purse or even a diaper bag. This tote can accomplish the task of carrying a couple diapers and wipes, my calendar, my wallet, and a few other necessities like snacks to smuggle into the movie theater. It is also reversible and came with a cute clutch/wallet. The interior is a warm white color. The material is very soft, and the gold has a matte finish with a subtle sheen– not gaudy or tacky.

    Are you curious about giving Stitch Fix a try? You can visit my first post about Stitch Fix to learn more about the process. If you decide to sign up, I’d love it if you would use my referral link, which earns me $25 in credit when you schedule your first shipment!

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  • the one about showing up

    July 10, 2015 /

    I know it’s been a while since I’ve written. I’ve talked about these phases before…the ones when I am so overwhelmed by thoughts and to-do’s and dreams and regrets and everything all at once that I just quit things for a while.

    I tend to shut down for a little bit, collect myself, refocus, and deal with only what needs to be addressed. Everything else takes a ride in the back seat for a bit until I can catch my breath.

    And now that I’ve reset myself, I’ve got something that I need to confess.

    This blog is nothing if it is not honest, so…here goes.

    I drank a cup of shit water and didn’t die.

    Yes, it’s true.

    You’re in the presence of a real, life bionic super human.

    A few weeks ago, in an attempt to not drink as much Diet Coke, I got an ice cold water in a foam cup from McDonald’s. It was so refreshing. I had left it out overnight in the baby’s room slash my office, and I remembered it was there the following afternoon. 

    Too lazy to actually go to the kitchen to get a new cup of water, I simply walked into the “noffice” (nursery office) and grabbed the cup off my desk and took a big swig.
    Swished it around a little in my mouth.
    Seconds later, I was perplexed.
    Why, oh why, did my refreshing sip of water, taste what I would imagine sewage to taste like?
    Meh. I swallowed it.
    When I went to the sink to dump out the seemingly “expired” water (I’m no scientist), I was met with the most horrific sight.
    A dirty baby wipe, swimming in light brown, poopy water.
    I gagged.
    I nearly cried.
    I brushed my teeth immediately.

    Twice.

    I knew exactly what had happened. 
    My husband has a bad habit of stuffing trash (including dirty diapers and wipes) in cups and other vessels he just finds laying around the house. He thinks he will remember to throw them away later, but he doesn’t.
    Clearly.
    So, unbeknownst to me, I drank out of my husband’s latest trash bin. 
    I love my children, truly I do, but tasting their fecal matter was nothing I ever wanted to accomplish in life.
    But what can I say? I’m an overachiever.
    I couldn’t help but lay awake in bed that night, wondering if being a stay at home mom was for me. 
    I also compulsively Googled deadly illnesses contracted by drinking feces, but that’s for another post.

    And no. It wasn’t this shitcident (see what I did there?) that forced me into a few weeks of solitary. It was merely a culminating event, following several days of deep contemplation about what I was doing with my life.

    And if you believe in signs and all that…I’d say ingesting one of my daughter’s waste slushies was a big, red, flashing, beeping sign that I should renew my teacher’s license immediately. Like, yesterday.

    For the two weeks following this pivotal day in my life, I was just straight depressed.  Then grumpy. Then some more depression, followed by a bit more grumpy.

    Was this what my life had become? A Fear Factor-America’s Funniest Videos mashup? I have a college degree! I have big plans and big dreams that don’t involve learning to sing the Doc McStuffins theme song in 7 different accents! I used get emails that required a well-worded, timely response!

    I was important.
    And then it hit me. 
    I was important? Why do I no longer feel important? Was my career the only thing that defined me as important? 
    Am I no longer valued, needed, or held to high standards because I no longer teach full-time? 
    Are my successes not to be counted, simply because they don’t look like the successes of other people?
    Am I really nearly 31 years old and still trying to compare myself to others?
    So, after several days of sulking, telling my husband I needed to go back to teaching, and convincing myself I was worthless, I decided to give myself a kick in the ass and snap out of it. 
    My daughters are watching my every move and listening to my every word. 
    I asked myself what I would tell my children if they were feeling the way I was feeling, and I gave myself a good ol’ fashioned pep talk.
    There are many kinds of important. It takes all the kinds. Not everyone can be the same kind of important. That would be boring and useless. We need everyone to be their own important so that all the jobs get done and everyone knows their place in this world.

    There are four seasons in a year, but there are about a gazillion seasons of life. Some are happily or sadly short. Others are blissfully or painfully long. Some seasons are exciting and fun and enjoyable. Others are tiring, depressing, and uncertain. Accept that nothing lasts forever and seasons change…sometimes without warning.

    Success is relative and personal. Don’t measure your successes against the successes of others. Success is how you feel about your accomplishments and not about how others notice or recognize them. Yes, it feels good to be praised outwardly, but that is nothing compared to how it feels to be proud inwardly. Do what makes you feel proud inside, and you have achieved success.

    You are valued. You are loved. You are expected to show up. Even when you don’t want to– you are expected to wake up each day and embrace your role. Some are required to show up in a dress suit and stilettos. You are required to show up at least wearing pants. This does not make you less of a person. 

    And on the bad days, because there will always be bad days, remember that you drank a shit slushie and did not die. Surely, you can handle just about anything. 




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