Yep...I am going to be a Teacher...here's why...

Why on earth would you become a teacher  in today's world? Do you know how much teachers make? You will be living on the poverty level. Do you understand how political teaching has become? It is no longer all about teaching the child but about passing state mandated tests. Do you know how difficult working with parents is? My school is on the verge of being shut down and then I have to look for a job, do you know how hard it is to find a job in teaching these days? Have you heard that most teachers don’t make it past five years anymore? There is just too much stress on the profession that people leave. Have you thought about doing something else? Anything else?

As a mom with five children who is reentering the world of schooling to become a

teacher, the previous statements are what I hear on a routine basis. When someone asks me

what I am going to school for and I say Elementary education I receive a look of sorrow. I

personally know a lot of teachers and even teachers have said teaching is pretty rough these

days. While some might be surprised as to how difficult the teaching profession really can be, I am not and I believe this is my advantage. I have been in the schools for seven years now. I

have always been a highly involved parent who develops friendships with my teachers and so I have heard the complaints and struggles they deal with. I know that teaching is not “coming up roses” and “happy songs” everyday and I am prepared. I am prepared for long hours and parent melt downs and stress from classroom management failures. I am prepared.  I feel I have an “inside” knowledge that will help me overcome the usual pitfalls and because of this

understanding I feel I will be an amazing teacher, which is what has lead me hear today, to

learn to teach. 

Teaching has not always been my passion. When I was a young girl I wanted to be a

teacher and then my views changed. When I first started college at sixteen I wanted to pursue a degree in psychology. Several years ago I reentered school again for an interest in nursing.

Neither subject held my passion and I always looked back at teaching. What I am drawn to in

teaching is giving kids a chance. Because I want to teach early education I probably wont

prevent a kid from joining a gang or dropping out of school, but I might. My goal is to instill in them that one person believes in them and that an education will be a lifetime of success. Some children don’t have someone in their lives who tells them they are worthy, they are smart. I could be that person. If I make a difference in just one child’s life my whole career it would be a success.

Another reason teaching has become such a strong pull for me is because of my own experience with an amazing teacher. As I previously stated I have five children. My middle son, Colby, has special needs. Last year Colby started kindergarten, this was very scary for us. Colby had previously attended two years of preschool and received services there but kindergarten was a big jump. Colby has Apraxia of speech and some learning disabilities. He hasn’t always had clear speech and often people have left him out of activities or events, probably not consciously, but I noticed and so did Colby. Because my older two children were already in school I spent the entire year before Colby started kindergarten scoping out the teachers. I decided on a very animated, affectionate teacher named Mrs. Gilbert. Little did I know she would change my whole life and Colby’s. When you have a child with special needs you are dominantly the only advocate for your child, Mrs. Gilbert joined me in Colby’s fight for services. She found ways to include Colby in everything while also tailoring his works towards his needs. He was encouraged to speak in class and was included in the class videos. She fought for his right to get services at the school and stood with me and supported my choice to have him graduate kindergarten. This year when Colby started first grade she went and worked with his teacher on how to develop learning plans specified to help him succeed. She didn’t stop caring because he was no longer her student, she had invested in Colby and was not going to let that investment fail. She was and is the example of an exemplary teacher who did make a difference, a huge difference in a child’s life…and mine. 

When Colby graduated kindergarten I decided that I owed something back, It was now my duty, my pay it forward to become a teacher and give back what my child had received. I am willing to spend an entire career to hopefully make the same difference in another child’s life. This is not just my passion for myself but my thank you to Mrs. Gilbert for changing our lives.

 

In the end there are many reasons why someone chooses the path to teaching. Some ideas are naive and may change as the person actually begins in the profession and some ideas are inspiring. A

Finally, I want to teach because teaching is one of the last few real professions where inspiration can unfold and I want to be apart of that experience…as much as I can.

I survived Halloween...give me my kit kat bar...

Halloween this year was a bit chaotic...to say the least. First of all it was on a Monday, that blows. Secondly I had major PTA events back to back Friday and Saturday night plus our normal chaos AND my husband worked the entire weekend. I am amazed I didn't rip my arm off and beat myself with it from shear mental confusion and exhaustion. 

There were also a few things different about this Halloween too...I wasn't as fat as normal and I chose to celebrate that with a mild street walker esque ensemble. The fact that the lady bug skirt I was wearing lit up to showcase what looked like a million sperm on my thighs was just icing on the cake. There was also the wonderful circumstance of my husband working all weekend and my having to take five, yes five, small sticky humans door to door roving for gum gums and licorice. I took this as an opportunity to check out my neighbors and make pointed threats to the children that if they don't listen to me I am taking them right back to the house with the dead cat smell and stale pretzels...I am always looking for ways to "encourage" good behavior. 

After we all put on our costumes (for the 4th time mind you) and ate as much of a healthy meal as a kid will eat on Halloween we ventured out into the dark, pillow cases in one hand, sanitizer in the other. We were the unstoppable Ulm's or at least unstoppable for an hour. 

2 hours later...2 meltdowns down...2 more to go...we arrived back home. I was exhausted and surprised I hadn't lost anyone. We had 5 HUGE bags of candy and I could already feel my thighs bulging up again. I slid off my sperm skirt, crawled into bed, and Thanked God my husband was home so I could pretend to be asleep and then sneak out to watch TV. I survived the longest  Halloween weekend ever and I was going to celebrate that...with some trashy TV and a bag of kit kats. 

I want to be Sydney when I grow up...

Nine years ago tomorrow I gave birth to an amazing little girl. Nine years ago today however I was extremely unamused with her. Thus the story of Sydney Taylor and I was born...

I previously posted my love for Avery and how I had several losses before his birth. That being said when he was about 9 months old I was feeling awfully tired and sick...a lot! Having believed the old wives tale that you cannot get pregnant while nursing I was quite shocked to discover I was indeed pregnant. When we went to our first doctor appointment to see how far along I was (no period to guide us) I just about fell off the table when the ultrasound showed a baby...yes a baby...not a deformed peanut...an actual little person! How did she get there? When did this happen? I was so completely exhausted with 1 child this had to be another son of god! I do not, repeat do not, remember having the energy for anything that could have led to this.

Here I was 20 years old, pregnant, and completely scared to death. Avery was an easy baby so that did calm my nerves...but 2?!? I think this is why God chose this path for me. Being younger I believed I knew everything and I started to believe raising 2 kids under 2 would be a breeze...needless to say youth is wasted on the young...

Fast forward 5 more months and there I lay on my couch waiting to fall asleep but filled with excitement for my scheduled c-section in the morning. As I watched some trashy tv show I felt a weird feeling in my stomach...and then my back...and then I realized I WAS IN LABOR! WTH?!?!?! David did not believe me at first and then finally decided to rush me to the hospital when I started lying on the floor wailing in pain. We all know I am a hypochondriac but when your wife is 10 months pregnant and clutching the couch like a bull ride gone wild I think hesitation is best left to the wayside. 

When we get to the hospital they too agree I am in labor and tell me I went from 0 dilation in my doctor appt earlier in the day to 4 cm now. Because of my previous c-section and what not they decide to stop my labor so until they can get an O.R. ready. This was wonderful, no, not at all. I was allergic to the medicine and went into convulsions while still experiencing labor...awesome. I was then rushed into an O.R. where I laid naked while they prepped me. Now for my first c-section my doctor was out of town and another doctor stepped in and apparently he left his signature on my body because as I lay, naked mind you, on that table the medical team commented on my having a Dr. Gordon bikini c-section scar...nice. Do they not realize that besides one time in college laying naked on a table is not my M.O.? I do also have to add here that when we later watched the video of Syd's amazing birth we discovered that while I was naked on a table having people discuss my bikini line incision my husband was outside in scrubs making faces and some sort of cone head people tribute on our camera...classy.

After a short surgery a beautiful baby girl was born. 7lbs 15oz and perfect. She nursed easy. She barely cried and she was the apple of Avery's eye. She had come as a huge surprise and on her own damn time but she was perfect. 

I have always felt a child's personality can be traced back to their birth. Avery's birth was long and complicated like Avery if you ask him to do something...anything! Sydney came when she wanted to, some might say punctual, and after a bit of a fight with me. She also came when I was prepared and knocked me on my ass...this continues to today. There are many days with her where I still feel naked on a table with people commenting on me. I don't know how many people will admit they wish they had the chutzpah of their child but I will. That girls has balls.

Sydney is the most hard working, punctual, determined, ornery, loving, kind, and dedicated child. She surprises me every day with her abilities. She is also strong minded and will go up against me in a heart beat...she is actually one of the only people to go toe to toe with me in our family. She will also defend her siblings to the end. Never cross a loved one of hers. I pity the first boy to break her heart.

Nine years ago I never imagined I would have 3 more kids after Syd but I wouldn't be the mother to them that I am if I didn't have her. She makes me want to be a better version of myself. If I had, had half of her talents and determination as a child I would have gone far...but I suppose in the end I have...Thank you Miss Sydney Taylor for letting me be your Mom and all the glory that entails...

Avery...

Every Mom loves their kids for different reasons. They also love different kids for different reasons. You never love one child over another but you do have a different connection to each. My connection to Avery is different on many levels.

When I was a kid I always wanted to be a Mom. When I met my husband I tried to have kids right away. I think I mentioned before that I got pregnant rather quickly. I was over the moon. I read every book, went to every doctor apt and when we went to find out if it was a boy or girl we found out something much worse. It was a girl. She was very sick. After a long week of lot's of doctor appointments and tearful nights we had to discontinue the pregnancy. My life was in danger and she was too sick to ever survive. I was 5 1/2 months pregnant and 18. I have regretted that decision every day of my life...and always will.

I got pregnant again 2 months later. I lost that baby at 6 weeks. At the time I figured God was punishing me for my earlier pregnancy. It was very painful.

Determined to have a baby I got pregnant again immediately after that. This time the baby was healthy. This time the baby was a boy. This time it was Avery.

I got down on my knees every day and prayed for this baby. In May of 2001 my water broke and after 24 long hours of labor I ended up with an emergency c-section. I had a huge, gorgeous, healthy baby boy.

Avery was the first baby I nursed. The first baby I laid with for hours just staring at. He was the first person to call me Mom. I have cherished these moments with all of my children but you always remember your first.

Avery is sensitive. He is funny, smart, loving, kind. He loves sports and reading and he is very mindful of right and wrong. He still gives me a hug and kiss in front of his friends. He sits with his little brother Colby and does home work. He feels pain when someone he loves his hurting. He is an awesome kid...and somehow he is my kid. 

He has also been through a lot. He has had broken bones numerous times and a split eye once. He has a heart murmur and an undiagnosed seizure disorder. He lost his hearing in his right ear 3 years ago. He has also had a tumor in his arm that almost prevented him from ever playing sports again. Just this past year he was hospitalized for Mono and the doctors were concerned he had tumors attached to his liver. Thank God he didn't but it was a long road.

In the past 2 years of his own health issues he also watched his grandmother battle cancer and his grandfather suffer a stroke. He spent an entire year in counseling and suffered from daily panic attacks. Watching my child suffer was more painful than anything I had ever known...or wish to know.

Have you ever held your child in your arms and tried to explain God's reasons or that everything would be okay and not to be scared all the while terrified yourself? Sadly, I have.

Avery can't ever be counted out though. He will always overcome. He has the spirit and the determination to go great places in this world and I know he will too.

He is an amazing kid who doesn't need someone spreading lies about him or gossiping about him. He's suffered enough. We just went an entire month without a panic attack. It's been a long road.

I don't know how to take away any pain he has suffered but I will do everything in my heart to try.

I always thought God punished me for losing my first baby, and sometimes I still do, I have had 4 miscarriages, but when I look at Avery, Sydney, Colby, Rusty, and Shelby I know he didn't.

God took away but he gave me so much more...and he gave me the best first child to start my journey that I could have ever asked for...

16 months going on 4

Shelby believes she's 4. She believes she can do what her 4 year old brother can do plus more. She has no interest in "baby" things. She does not want to play with baby toys. She does not want to sleep in baby beds. She is a 4 year old trapped in a 16 month old's body.

Examples for the skeptics out there...She refuses to drink from a sippy cup even though she can't really drink from a regular cup. She would apparently rather spill all over herself than be seen drinking from a baby item. 

She takes off her diaper the moment she pees to alert me to her need to be changed. I tried to explain to her that I'm more of a "couple" pees Mom and it's better for the environment any ways but she just rolled her eyes. 

She's always on the phone calling people, or tweeting about her poop...it's all very over my head. 

She does not want to be "left out" of any family event...period.

However my all time favorite is that she believes we are having debates about her choices. "Shelby do not climb on that table, Shelby do not take off her outfit, Shelby you cannot go outside ALONE!" her reply..."Mom, Mom, Mom, MOOOOOOOOM, Googoo, blah blah...Dad.

1 broken bed = 2 aspiring gymnasts...

My bed is broken. Not in a "I have 5 kids" good time broken but more of a "2 little monkeys jumping on the bed" broken. 

Sydney and Colby are apparently prepping for the 2016 Olympics and my very own comfy rest place has become their training ground. 

To say I am amused is an understatement.

Yesterday was a pretty grueling training session apparently. When I crawled into the sweet land of nighty night, well after I should have mind you, I was greeted with squeaks, cracks and I am pretty sure a moan from the mattress herself. 

When I awoke this morning, well before I should have mind you, it was my very own back letting out the squeaks, cracks and moans. 

I would post a picture of lady lullaby (that's what I call my best friend, the bed) but she has asked for no photos please.

Apparently a bed can only take children making or gymnastics, but not both. 

We will be "putting her down" soon but before we do I am going to make those little shits train everyday. Someone, somehow is going to get some kind of a medal out of this and if it ain't me it's going to be one of them....

You have 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...

Countdowns are big in our household. We have the infamous yelling while slowly counting down. Which is a personal favorite because it evokes fear and a timeframe. 

There is the holding my hand up with all five fingers extended and then counting down quietly, this is mostly used in public and getting down to a closed fist is not an option. 

There is the walk by countdown in which I start counting as I just walk by a room where I believe arguing is partaking. 

You can also have the 2 count, count in which you really only have to start with 1 and the child knows getting to 3 means loss of...well anything in close proximity to Mom

Counting has become our recourse because honestly it's "inappropriate" to spank and time outs are not feasible for a 10 year old, even with a dunce hat on.

I find that counting to five has actually become a strange habit for me. When I am in public I am constantly counting my children, which is five. I don't even know when I am doing it. It's almost like a strange turrets tick or Rain man scenario. 1,2,3,4,5 repeat 1,2,3,4,5 yeah yeah five, alright five. You'll see me at the pool counting to five repeatedly and then raising my hand in the air and counting backwards from five. It's no wonder people stare. Throw in a sixth child and I'm at a complete loss. 

Counting has even become a working strategy for me outside of my children. Scenario A. Person cuts me off on the road, count to five instead of chasing them home and driving by repeatedly to evoke fear (as if small woman in minivans evoke fear). Scenario B. Husband comes home and naps on the couch because he's "had a hard day at work"...count to five instead of "accidentally" spilling ice cold water on him. 

There are many upsides to this ability to count.

In the end something I learned in Preschool has really managed to help me in my day to day life. If only the other things I learned in pre-k would apply so well. Everyone could use a little more nap times, sharing and freeze dancing in my opinion at least...1,2,3,4,5 end

I hate Spongbob and his B**** Squidward

My kids have this beyond annoying habit of being incredibly active for hours at a time and then suddenly walking through the door and becoming TV zombies. I have signed them up for every activity, every camp, every sport they can partake in just to prevent them from morphing into frozen brained creatures! 

I know the "simple" solution seems like turning the TV off...however it is not. My politely asking for the TV to be turned off results in screaming, yelling and then tears, all which are mostly from me. Have you ever tried to reason with a zombie? There is no reasoning with empty!

My kids are only even home for a couple hours per day. They run around as soon as they walk through the door completing all of their chores and then simultaneously jump on the couch and zone out into some atrocious show about dance offs, or kids that live on a cruise ship...which btw where are these kids parents? Why does icarly live with her brother? Who is a complete idiot? Why are kids on a cruise ship with a weird British man who obviously hates children? What are the cable networks trying to infringe upon our children? Who writes these shows and why are they allowed to?

I digress...TV is for me. TV is my only, repeat only, escape during summer. I get to zone out while watching grown woman throw drinks in each others faces. I cannot have this disdain against my baby, my first love, my toshiba!

Alas, until summer is over and we joyfully return the chaos back to school my TV and I will part...for quiet sanity...but like all true loves we will meet again in that little slice of Heaven I call September...

The path...

As I go through my life I often wonder how my experiences are affecting those around me. Are my children happy? Do they feel that they have a good childhood? Will I truly ever know?

I guess you never really do know how your life impacts others, especially your children...unless they grow up and tell you they hate you but I don't think any of us are wishing for that revelation...

I know that my children have a better childhood than I did, not because my Mom didn't love me but because she didn't love herself (sounds cheesy but true). I sometimes wonder what could have been however would that have led me to here?

I truly don't know many Mom's who parent the same as their Mom's. I find that a lot of the Mom's I know, myself included, parent the opposite of their childhoods. Does that mean I will have children that have small families, may never get married, or *gasp* daughters that work outside the home? Maybe. I don't really know why most of my friends chose their paths but I chose mine because I knew that my Mom wanted to stay home with us but couldn't. My Mom wanted a big family for herself but wasn't able. I didn't make choices against her choices...but as she would have wanted her path to be...while still choosing my path


I wont discover my true parenting skills until my kids are a little more grown and have to make life choices. In the end, in regard to myself, I feel most of my life choices were good. I chose a man that loves me, I never found myself in an addiction, I have genuine friends and I try very hard to be a good Mom and to be happy. I think that's enough...if not more than...

Do you feel you parent the same or opposite of your upbringing and why?

U don't know me...

Summer is here...my life is getting back into a simpler groove...blogging will commence shortly...

In honor of my blog...and my triumphant return...I am posting a "Top Ten things you don't know about me". I know in US Weekly they give 25 things but I'm just not that interesting...

1.) I cry at commercials, sad movies, memories...pretty much anything

2.) When I was 17 I trained extensively to become a boxer...I outgrew that obviously

3.) I own the Britney Spears classic "Crossroads"

4.) I hate driving on freeways, gives me an instant panic attack

5.) I have had all of my kids by c-section...not fun

6.) I am married to my "high school sweetheart"...we've been together since we were 17

7.) I played the clarinet for 12 years, I even used to give lessons

8.) I hope to become a foster Mom one day

9.) I have a fondness for sappy movies...I've seen every Father of the Bride and any movie like it at least fifteen times

10.) I love the show Friends so much I own the collection and watch it at least once a week 

11.) I love my kids more than anything in the world...I think this one was a given though...

10 days...

Ten days ago was my last post. Just ten days ago. Today those ten days seem like years....

Colby had gone in for testing and we were making the very hard decision of pursuing this company that would cost us a fortune but made big promises or not. Ten days ago my life was about Avery's recovery, Colby's special needs, Rusty's 4th birthday, Sydney's growing need to be sassy, Shelby's babyhood, school, my Mom's upcoming petscan, PTA, kids sports and activities and moving. That's all changed now.

Tuesday I rode my kids to school on their bikes and just two hours later our lives changed. My Dad suffered a stroke. The last six days has been about all of the above AND taking care of him. Daily hospital visits that are now skilled nursing center visits, making medical decisions, caring for him and making the very challenging decision about his future...our future...our future with the added element of his care.

I truly believed when I had my kids younger that I wouldn't have the burden of caring for my children and my parents at the very same time. It didn't really work out that way did it?

How can I make decisions about my future when in the last ten days my future changed so much?

How can I give everything to everyone that needs me and not go completely insane?

When do I get to get back to the place where I feel my life goals and accomplishments and my actual life are equal again?

How did I get here?

Right now I just don"t know.

Hopefully ten days from now I will.

Colby...

Recently my husband and I had to make the very challenging decision of whether or not we should retain Colby in kindergarten. This is not a light decision by any means. I read every study and research article I could find about retention. At the end of the day most believe it's the "does the child ever graduate school" question.

Raising a large family raises the spectrum of challenges. Avery is very bright, but lazy. Sydney is also bright but more importantly very hard working. Colby is very intelligent, he just has some pretty extreme learning disorders...most people can't differentiate, including "experts". If I just had Avery and Sydney things would be...easy. Colby throws in a whole lot of extra advocacy.

When Colby was 2 years old he didn't talk. I honestly thought nothing of this because he had two older siblings that always talked for him. When I took him to his yearly check up his pediatrician felt differently. They immediately sent him to a speech pathologist and he was instantly diagnosed with Speech Apraxia. There I was with a newborn baby, 2 older kids and a 2 year old with a pretty overwhelming future.

In giving Colby a speech disorder God also gave him the worlds biggest heart and the most ah inspiring determination. This child was first told he would never talk to talking all the time. We were told to use pec cards for communication, to teach him to sign, to even give him a permanent device so he could communicate with us. His pathologist never imagined a normal life for him in regards to speech. It was daunting.

Colby had years of private speech therapy, went to a preschool for kids with special needs, has been tested by everyone and their Mom and now has a fully developed IEP. He receives over 810 minutes of therapy and resource a month in school. To say these services came easy is just not the case. When you have a child with any special need you have to learn how to fight for them. I had to file many appeals to ensure he received his therapy. I had to demand he be tested and re tested, I even had him switch preschools and had them bring his speech to the new school. None of these were easy decisions and or choices but they were best for Colby so they had to be done.

When he started kindergarten I thought he would "catch up" on his learning. We focused so much on his speech all these years because we assumed that was all that he needed help with. When he entered kinder we discovered that Apraxia effects all learning. Thankfully he was blessed with THE MOST AMAZING teacher who joined me in my advocacy for Colby and pressured the "experts" to test him for everything. When you spend years feeling like the only advocate for your child and someone else finally joins in there's an overwhelming sense of gratitude that just cannot be described.

Apraxia is a very complex disorder. It usually develops in children with Autism but over the last several years they have found more non autistic children being diagnosed. To lightly sum up what Colby goes through imagine you hear everything normal you just can't repeat it the same. When he reads he can see the word cow but when he goes to say cow something else comes out, like cat. Can you imagine trying to say something and always struggling to get the correct sounds or words out? It's a daily struggle yet Colby makes it look so easy.

When we decided that Colby should move on to first grade it wasn't capricious. I am terrified he will become overwhelmed or feel bad about himself but I have also learned that Colby is very hard working and can surprise everyone, including me. He understands everything in his life and he would know he was held back just like he knows he has a speech disorder...he's a smart cookie.

In the end knowing if we made the right choice wont be determined for years but that's usually how all parenting is...doing the best and praying it was the right decision...

I need a new name...

I would like to ensure everyone that I am still alive and kicking even though my recent long departure from blogging would suggest otherwise.

To be perfectly honest it's sometimes hard to discuss the draining days of parenting when you're smack dab in the middle of them.

So here I am...back...ready to share and explore my journey, or at least complain and whine about my journey, of this wonderful little thing called motherhood.

I must say though I am considering changing my blog name, which I think will change my blog address, however I am not 100% sure on that last tidbit. I am not a "Marketing Mama", I tried, I left, I just don't care that much...I don't mean to sound complacent but I honestly am. When I was working my job I was completely gung ho. Now I have realized I could give a donkeys nut about product placement and advertisements so it's back to nursing school I a go. I have to finish my marketing classes in school but I don't have to keep the name for my blog.

I have come up with a few ideas and would like your input. So far I have narrowed it down to "fertile myrtle" but I think that's a little obvious. There's "supermama"...not. I like "children invaded my life" or "help me". I was also contemplating "husband for sale" or "in search of sister wife". I could always go a different route too as in "shit I'm almost 30!" or "Who's fat a** is this?" More possible options are "That's not my child throwing a tantrum" or "Yes I have 5 kids, no I'm not Mormon" and "Been there, done that, got peed on". My all time favorite though is "What you talking bout? wisdom from a crazed Mom"

Really there are so many options and I am just scraping the surface.

All useful suggestions are welcomed...and hopefully this blog will be on a "somewhat" new path very soon...

If you're asking, then your probably a good Mom

Yesterday I was at breakfast with two woman that I think are great mother's. We were meeting to discuss a PTA fundraiser. All three of us had many other things to do, they both work and I go to school, but we felt this was important so we made the time. It was important because it's for our kids.

As we were talking we were all sharing parenting stories and we were realizing how even though we have different sized households with different family dynamics we all faced the same struggles with our children. One of the Mom's then said "I always wonder if I'm a good Mom" we paused for a moment and then looked at her and said "If you're wondering, than you are".

This may or may not be true, I mean maybe there are Mom's who send there kids to school with no lunch and then wonder if they're good moms, I doubt it. Because of this doubt I thought I would give some examples of Good Mom/Bad Mom choices to make it more clear for anyone out there wondering, maybe even end wondering all together. So here goes...

A Good Mom mostly knows her kids names, a Bad Mom doesn't have a clue.
A Good Mom knows their child's teachers names, Bad Mom doesn't realize they go to school.
Good Mom has laundry done and ready, Bad Mom makes kids occasionally turn underwear inside out (Scratch that last one)
Good Mom makes sure children get to and from school...mostly on time, Bad Mom can't be bothered by such nuances while lunching or bar hopping
Good Mom reads to her children, Bad Mom has pimp read to children
Good Mom only occasionally beats children, Bad Mom beats them routinely
Good Mom forbids dating until adulthood, Bad Mom suggests double dates with teenager
Good Mom will ground children if they engage in recreational drugs, Bad Mom will ground children if they get into her "stash" 
A Good Mom show up to events and supports children, A Bad Mom can't get off work because that's the best night for big dollar tippers
Good Mom doesn't always realize she's good, Bad Mom thinks she's the best and tells everyone

In the end I think a Good Mom is someone who questions their parenting because they are invested in their children and a Bad Mom is someone who by the time they get done reading this blog needs to be reminded, again, that they have children.

I want my Oscar...

I find that the older I get the less interest I have in celebrating others...or at least other that don't really do much, and I'm not just referring to most men here.

I'm talking about celebrities. By the end of "awards season" we will have celebrated them many times over for one piece of work. This piece of work may have touched us emotionally or made us think more deeply but even that may be stretching it. Maybe I'm bitter and I'll be the first to admit this but I don't feel like jumping up and down because someone got paid a hole lotta money to act in a film that most of us wont remember this time next year.

What if we honored real Mom's this much every year? What if Mom's who live in work clothes or live in "Mom" clothes were able to dress up and walk a red carpet *gasp* kids free and have fathers, yes fathers, in the stands cheering our names and asking for our autographs?

Who would receive the "Able to hold a small child, unload the dishwasher, cook dinner, and supervise homework award?", or the "Worked all day, picked up kids, drove them to all their events, and then made love to their husbands award?". Just the shear act of love making is sometimes a hell of a lot more acting than some Oscar nominees can pull of.

Why don't we Mother's come together and throw ourselves a big ol' party? We could each get up on a stage and thank all of the people who helped us through the sleepless nights, the emotional roller coasters, the hemorrhoids and vomiting, the millionth time some small person said no and we refrained from just slapping the yes into them.


Why don't we do this you ask? We don't do this because we would have to do it for ourselves. We plan everything. Mother's don't have awards seasons because who has time to throw in appreciating ourselves, furthermore appreciating ourselves for multiple months??? I sometimes can't go to the bathroom for hours how can I plan an awards show?

Instead once a year we turn on the tv, watch fancy people dress up, and imagine ourselves receiving accolades because that's pretty much the extent of our time. We don't get to thank those who helped us get through each day but we know they understand we value them because their Mom's too.

In the end we may not get our own Oscar but we have moments where a snuggle or a cleaned room or a wonderful card from our child mean so much more than anything Oscar can give. I suppose being a Mom is an awards season...or maybe just bedtime is?

Where did all the sleep go?

I awoke the other morning in a most familiar way...

I may have mentioned once or twice that I am not a morning person. This is a bit of a troublesome situation since that is when I exercise. Every night I set my alarm clock to 5:00am and every morning someone who is in my bed, possibly me, turns it off. It's really starting to cut into my elliptical time.

So back to my morning. I wake up to Sydney yelling at me because unlike her Mother she is adamant about being on time and apparently she feels I am not being helpful by still sleeping at 7:30am. I jump, more like slowly rise, out of bed when I remember that David is gone and I must ensure everyone is dressed and have lunches packed by 8:00am. My husband is the morning person and so he takes that shift, however he sometimes has to leave early and so it falls back to me, the person who is not so keen on early rising. Why don't they let kids of parents who are tired and needing more rest go to school later, say 11:00???

I walk down the hall to find that someone has wet a bed, someone else has spilled fruit loops all over the floor with a little milk to boot, and another someone (furry I might add) has peed on the floor. I then hesitantly continue on to find Rusty still fast asleep and like a sleeping lion cub I am hesitant to wake him in fear of being attacked (he did awake but mostly because of the bribery). I move out to the kitchen to find Avery, who is none too helpful, watching tv in his drawers and Colby stretched out next to him. I then finally I discover that since taking Shelby out of bed she has managed to pull every toy out of every toy chest and disappear with ninja like abilities to start eating the fruit loops that are still on the floor.

The next 20 minutes are fast forwarded like a cheesy movie about large families running a muck, yet in this tale no kids were left home alone, though the Mom in the story would love to be left home alone. 

By 8:00am everyone was where they were supposed to be. All was right in our world and Dad didn't need to know the difference. Honestly for kicks I told him I woke right when he left and prepared a huge breakfast for all five kids while teaching them about geography and then proceeded to carry them to school on my back to really up the guilt card for the next time he's running behind.

I know some day I'll get this morning routine down. That or they'll all be grown and I'll just sleep in but regardless it never gets easier. 


Just out of curiosity how do mornings run at your home?

Poop patrol

I am officially on Poop watch 2011. Shelby has decided that being cute wasn't enough so she's added some naughty in as well to stir the pot a bit.

Last night my husband was working late and so I was home with all the kiddos. Since it's apparently inappropriate to drink away their cries I tried my best to appease them all the minute each one needed something (which is every min). In the midst of this controlled chaos Miss Shelby decided she didn't just like wearing pearls she wanted to eat one as well.

I tried very hard to retrieve said item to no avail. It also took every bit of my mothering mite to not overact, run down the street screaming in horror and call the fire department (they prefer to only be called for "emergencies" I'm told). Needless to say when there is an emergency in our house I'm not usually the person everyone runs to for help. In fact unless the place is on fire and I'm sleeping they usually try to not even alert me to any danger or potential disaster. Supposedly you are an "overreactor" if you know the fire department call dispatchers by name.

Anywho, I did give my husband a very frantic call and tried my best not to harm him when he did finally return home from work and then refused to take a non choking, breathing perfectly, child to the er after working all day(I swear).

Being a bit more mature (we'll say) I rationally decided that she must not be slowly dying from the inanimate object lodged in her chest and she should soon pass said inanimate object. (btw spelling inanimate object was quite a challenge).


Because I still am fairly irrational I did wake every hour last night to check if she was breathing, she was, so was my husband who did not enjoy the hourly wakings. If you're wondering you may be more inclined to let your kids play in the street once you have enough for your own basketball team but irrational fears always rear their ugly head.

After giving Shelby as much fiber filled foods as I possibly could today she did finally poop. No pearl amidst that jewel of a diaper but there's still tomorrow. As I look back on my childhood and my hope of motherhood I do not recall ever imagining opening a diamond and searching for jewelery as a real selling point of the job.

I do think this is a rather metaphorical story in that some days it feels like I am looking through a big pile of poop for the jewel that gets me through till tomorrow...and hopefully tomorrow I'll find it.

A 5th child's birthday party...

Somehow Shelby is turning 1. I honestly can't believe the year has already gone by. Amazing.

To celebrate this event I have given some examples of how maybe a 1st child's birthday celebration and a 5th child's birthday celebration are very, very different.

-When it's your 1st child you send out "save the date cards" months in advance and special hand made invites with their professional photos 3 weeks in advance. When it's your 5th child's birthday you email everyone and spread the word on facebook. If you find a photo you have actually had time to print off you may include that as well(probably not).
-1st child gets every learning, walking, talking, dancing toy imaginable. 5th child already has those from previous siblings so you save some money on presents. (5th child bonus in my mind)
-1st child, You invite everyone, including people you see that morning at the grocery store, because you are just that damn excited. 5th child, you realize that as much as people want to celebrate with you there is no chance the President and his wife are stopping by. Needless to say you scale back the invites. Plus if you include their siblings you have a whole party right there.
-1st child, you buy out Party city. 5th child, you throw some decorations in the cart that were right by the check out stand and call it a day.
-1st child, You dress in your Sunday best. 5th child, it's a miracle if you get a chance to put make up on.
-1st child, You plan nothing else on the party day and spend hours preparing and decorating. 5th child, maybe you happen to be the Girl Scout cookie Mom for an older sibling so you wake up at 6:00am and go load 2600 boxes of girls scout cookies into your van to distribute before and after the party because by now you've hit maximum crazy so theirs no reason not to add this to your day.
-1st child, You write down all presents and who they are from. 5th child, you video tape and play back the movie so you can actually see what they got and who gave it to them.
And finally...1st child, You can't imagine another birthday or what they will grow up to be like. 5th child, you know it only gets better...

Nobody likes me...

One thing children always seem to be able to accomplish is to make things beyond challenging at various times. Having five children usually means someone is always challenging, it's usually Rusty but I digress.

Avery has reached the age of teetering on the verge of more self awareness and responsibility and not wanting to teeter on at all.

By and large Avery is a wonderful kid. A typical 1st born. He is very bright, very athletic, everyone likes him, he has a very good wit and he is very sensitive to others. He is also aloof, complacent, and overly dramatic. I wont say which one of his parents he is more like but I'm assuming you've already figured it out.

His new rationalization of why he shouldn't listen to his Father or I is because no one likes him anymore. A typical scenario would be "Avery please take out the garbage" "Why? Because no one here likes me so I always have to take out the garbage!" (dramatic storming off ensues). "Avery please don't push your sister, brother, dog, ect" "I can never do anything! Nobody here likes me!".

Now thankfully I have other Mom friends who are also experiencing this behavior. I know that this isn't because of some lack of attention he's receiving but because of his age/dramatic personality. I have a friend who's daughter wrote a note to her saying how much her family doesn't like her. Maybe it's a 1st born/oldest thing or maybe it's nine/ten year old thing but honestly I'm running with it.

Now I respond with sarcastic comebacks like "How did you figure it out?" or "I can help you pack for your new family". Some may say this tactic is cruel however I feel telling him what he wants to hear is the best medicine. It will also show the younger siblings I mean business and maybe they should avoid this behavior when they get older(That probably wont happen but I can dream can't I?).

In the end Avery knows we love him. He may come home to suitcases packed but he knows they're empty. I just hope he outgrows these "episode" before I am inclined to actually pack his stuff.

Have you experienced a similar scenario with your kids?

Sick Mom...Day 7

Okay so obviously I skipped days 4, 5, and 6 on this journey but I'm back today so we'll just gloss over it. I skipped those days because the children were home and I don't get much time to hole up in the office and type out a witty and yet vulnerable blog about a Mom who thinks there's no such thing as "having it all".

I am writing tonight even though, as I described to my friend earlier, grossly sick. I don't mean communicable disease sick or Christina Aguilera herpes sick but coughing up my right lung and choking on mucous sick.

I have no time to be sick so I'm going to the doctor in the am. I've had people ask me what I am going to do now that I'm not working. Well since I still have five kids, and I still go to school, and I still am on the PTA, volunteer at school, and am on every committee from here to Nantucket, I think I'll keep busy. This week alone I have something every night, not to mention the kids activities and Miss Shelby's 1st birthday party.

I really have no time to lay in bed and watch Marley and Me and eat bon bons till I no longer sound like a lady of the night with a bad smoking habit. Trust me I tried.

I don't even know why God tries to have us be sick. Is it an attempt to slow us Moms down? Because it ain't working. I do not know of one Mom who can ever just be sick. I have no such friends who can lay down for more than ten minutes without some child crying, or needing to be fed, or wanting something...anything!!!!

My husband stubs his toe and he needs to take a two hour nap. I vomit on the way to drop off and still pick up cup cakes for the cake walk. Some days I wonder how much simpler life would be if I was a man. Then I remember the dangle bits and that dream pops faster than a balloon at a 5 years old's birthday party.

I know these times go by fast so I really don't mind sucking it up when I'm sick and keeping life in motion. I know when they're all grown I will have time to be sick, or read a whole book, or have a nice evening anywhere. I can burn myself out just to insure they're happy because that's what we do, isn't it?

Bad Mom...Day 2.

Technically it's Day 3 but I didn't post yesterday so it's Day 2.

How is it possible to have a horrible and wonderful day all in the same 24 hour period? I guess that's being a Mom. Today started off rocky. We ALL overslept and so the kids were late to school. My husband blames me because he fell asleep on the coach and I was in the bedroom with the alarm clock that went off...twice. However I pointed out to him that Shelby woke up 5 times last night screaming crying and so when the alarm clock did go off someone who was in my body got up and turned it off without my knowing. He was not amused.

Once we got the day rolling my husband took Sydney to the dentist and I went to volunteer at school. I have been so busy working I hadn't been volunteering much and it made me feel like a slacker Mom. It was oddly refreshing to spend the day just volunteering, no major schedule, no deadlines, no drama.

 I have been so busy working full time these last 4 months I forgot how less stressful life could be. Ever since July of 10' my life has been on a high orange stress alert. Going through the treatment of my Mother's cancer was the hardest thing I have ever done. I took the marketing job to escape the pain of waking up every day and seeing her be sick. I needed something more to help me get out of bed in the morning. Try as I might, sometimes when someone you love completely is ill you can't help but wonder "what's the point to it all?"

Working (outside the home), just gave me an excuse to be absent from my life. I was absent from my kids and husband. I was absent from my Mom. I was absent from the struggles my sister(who is handicapped) has had. I was absent from my friends. I got up everyday and left...everything.

I loved working. I loved being challenged on that level. But I was maxing myself out. Why? Because it took away everything that was overwhelming. Colby having special needs, Avery having anxiety, Sydney withdrawing, Rusty having meltdowns, me being a bad Mother.

By withdrawing I was a bad Mother. I think every Mom always feels like a bad Mom no matter what. I know I'm always striving to give my kids better of me but to say it's easy would be a lie. By not being here and throwing myself into a job, a job I wasn't even making money at, that was being bad Mom.

So I resigned.

My whole life I have just wanted to be a good Mom. I knew I was never going to be a crafty Mom, or a baby reading flashcard Mom, but I could be an involved Mom and an around Mom. I still have lot's of things on my plate, especially since I'm still in school, but now I don't have something that takes me away from them everyday.

Right or wrong it's where I'm at.

Day 1.

Recently I've been debating about the course of my blog. What direction should I take this? Is this an occasional witty incident outlet or a daily journey of one Mom's slow, but eventual, trip to crazy town? I think a daily Bridget Jones style avenue is more up my alley. My secret desire was to always be a writer and even though I'm obviously not, this allows me to pretend I am. Sometimes pretending gets me through the day. Pretending I love hearing the same song sung to me a million times, pretending that my house is quiet, pretending I'm not completely exhausted and I would love to spend quality time with my husband, pretending the dog licking my feet is a pedicure. I pretend a lot. It's a coping mechanism.

So here we are February 1st (I think, I'm a little tired) ready to embark on my first day of a one year daily commitment to chronicle every aspect of my life. From refraining to sell Rusty to maybe eventually getting this working Mom thing down, I'm enforcing blog time.

So it began:
Today was productive and exhausting at the same time. I keep telling myself that once I get into a "groove" this will get easier but that doesn't seem to be happening. Shelby is so upset that I leave for work everyday she wont let me put her down when I get home. I stayed on top of all of my laundry 1 week and now I seem to have jinxed myself from a repeat. I have no idea how many hours I get of sleep a night but I know it isn't enough. Every night I lay down promising myself I'll get up and exercise in the morning only to discover I slept in again and I have 25 minutes to get 5 kids ready, 4 to school, and myself to work all while somehow looking presentable. I have no idea what's on TV and no time to read my trashy magazines to catch up on all the gossip. I really must know who the new Real Housewife is and how many nannies that b**** has.

Wake, shower, feed and dress kids, run to a meeting, run to another meeting, answer 5 emails, have another meeting, rush to school to help volunteer on some capacity, call vendor to find out where product is, pick up all kids, Try to resist urge to drop them all back off, take kids to activities, go to grocery store, say goodbye to husband as he leaves for school, try not to resent husband leaving, fix dinner, clean up dinner, bathe Shelby, homework with Colby, answer work emails, bathe all kids, read and put kids to bed, my homework, blog, and finally bed just in time to start all over again in the morning. Hope to wake up and exercise...

That's day 1...

Those were the days???

Long ago in a land now far, far away I was a size 4. Shocking as this may be it is very true. I wore skinny little jeans and got free food. Doors magically opened for me. I never waited long for my coffee and I never went without a polite comment. Those days are long...long...gone. I'm lucky if someone moves out of the way of an automatic door for me now. I even get the occasional yes ma'am from waiters. I'm still 29! I can't get ma'am ed!!! When I work out, which isn't that often right now or for the last nine years, I am shocked by the woman in the mirror. When did my once cute Chinese tattoo stretch large enough to cover china? It's all so depressing...I need a brownie to recover.

Now that I've been back to work the sheer amount of stress in my life has exhausted ten pounds off of me. Granted I have 40 more to go but apparently it's noticeable enough that other Mom's have politely commented. So here I am feeling a little groove of self esteem and I decide to go shopping. Sydney and I head out on our "girls shopping trip". I decide to be cautious and grab some larger sizes because as we all know it's better to have them loose then too tight. We step into the changing room and I try 2 shirts on, shirts usually always fit so it's a safe start. I'm feeling good, I'm trying on clothes with a zest and imaging my new rock hard body by the pool this summer. Then I try on a pair of jeans. As I slowly pull them up I tell myself it's the lotion on my legs making them snug. Once we reach my formerly J-lo now Rosie bottom we hit an empass. I quickly pull the jeans off, throw my regular clothes on and tell Syd we're leaving. She looks at me quite confused and says "Why don't you just get a bigger size?". I look down at my beautiful daughter who has yet to feel the sting of womanhood fatness and I explain "That is my top size Syd, Mommy doesn't go higher than that!"  We all have our top size. I will wear sweat pants and maternity shorts before I buy above my "top size".

Do I want to get back in shape? Yes. Do I want to enter my 30's overweight? No. Does the idea of waking up early and jumping on the treadmill sound pleasing? No. What if our society looked at woman who accomplished raising a family, working, giving back to their community, volunteering for schools and churches as sexy. I'd be the next Gisele if that's how sex appeal went. But alas no. To be honest as a Mom of 5 kids who is also married food is my friend. Food loves me. It appreciates when I clean a room or balance a budget. Just last week food loved my work proposal and couldn't stop talking about the new fundraisers I'm doing. I see the jaded edge of the food love triangle and I'm really trying to ignore when it calls my name while I type committee minutes. I'm going to try real hard to break up with my bestie and make the treadmill my new gal pal. I know we can't be friends with benefits so I'll say goodbye but I think we need "one more night" before I walk away forever...

Not that kind of Mom

People often ask me how I do it all. Well I don't. I don't do it all. I imagine years ago woman did "do it all", but I've got help. I don't have to make clothing, or milk a cow, or even kill an animal to get food on the table. I don't have to teach the chillins because otherwise we would stick to the basics i.e. multiplication, maybe some division, but definitely no geometry. When someone says how impressed they are that I do so much I think to myself "self, they just don't even know".

So for all of you out there who think I'm more than I am here are some of my truths. I am not a Mom who makes crafts, I honestly can't even sew. My volunteering as a kinder Mom is quite a challenge since I am horribly uncreative. My husband is the artist. He can sew and make things and be kinda of girly in that regard. But artsy fartsy is not me.

I am also horrible at laundry. Some of you may recall earlier discussions of this but honestly it's bad. Last night I actually went to bed and then discovered that our dog Zoe was in our room, asleep, buried under piles of laundry.

I yell. I'm just being honest. I try not to but I still do...I'm working on that one.

I really struggle to get out of bed before 7:30am. In fact, I barely do.

I never did Mommy and Me classes, or reading classes, or Mommy yoga, or whatever else they say you need to do with a 2 week old to bond and connect with them. It just wasn't my thing.

I don't take my kids to historical sites or museums all the time. I must say though that my oldest came in 2nd in his class geography bee so apparently my not knowing where Guam isn't holding back their learning in any way.

I've never really scheduled my kids. In this area I'm a little bit of a hippie. I let Shelby choose her own schedule and I must say she does a good job. 

Overall I've made many mistakes as a Mom and since my kids are still pretty young I know I'll make more mistakes because that's parenthood. One thing I have always done though is tell my kids I'm sorry. I may not make sugar free brownies or amazing scrap books but I do give hugs and kisses and admit when I'm wrong. I'm not the Mom I thought I would be but I'm pretty happy with where I'm at. My starter kid is pretty amazing so I must be doing something right :)

Top Ten things to know before you have a large family...

You know there really aren't a lot of useful guides out there for large families. If you look on Amazon for books related to the topic there are maybe 5 and three of those are pretty religious. I personally did not have five kids because of any other reason than I'm bat sh** crazy! However I digress, I decided to take this opportunity to give my top ten helpful hints for those of you out there teetering on the edge of crazy town while pondering adding to your brood. Here goes...1.) You will ALWAYS being doing laundry. When I say always I'm not exaggerating. As soon as you have your final load done everyone in your cult, er I mean family, will take off everything they're wearing and you'll have 2 more loads instantly. You may actually consider starting your own nudist colony as I did. Then you'll remember how you look naked after birthing 5 LARGE children and you'll decide it's best to keep that kangaroo pouch hidden for only those who truly love you too much to shun their eyes in disgust...I mean you David. 2.) If you have boys and you've accomplished potty training you will probably spend the next 20 years sitting on a wet toilet seat, someone is always in that "phase". Plus when you're done raising all those kids you and your husband will be in your own phase and it'll most likely be him tinkling on the seat, I'm just saying. 3.) Someone is always mad at you. You didn't pack the right lunch, you didn't wash their favorite outfit, you showed up to school drunk, it's always something. 4.) You will wise up and learn to never take children to the grocery store. Have you ever seen that poor woman at the grocery store with multiple kids who looks lost and overwhelmed at the same time??? I have and I tell her that the store is open till midnight and it's better to shop with the crack heads then the sugar blobs. 5.) You will always be doing laundry! 6.) You will spend eternity at elementary schools. By the time my youngest graduates 5th grade my oldest, who is in 4th now, will be in college! College! Don't piss anyone off unless you know they're going to get fired. Otherwise you will eventually get that teacher and you will discover that teachers are like elephants and they never forget. 7.) Don't fly on a plane. The other travelers of the world have actually requested this one. For everyone involved just drive, even to Guam. 8.) When people are shocked by how many kids you have and ask all sorts of questions as in "Are you Mormon?", "Are you going to have more?", "Do you drink a lot?", start evolving the story, change it up a bit. I now say that yes I have 5 kids but with 5 different men in 5 different states. If they haven't fallen flat on their tushy in out right disgust they are probably jealous. 9.) Pretend to sleep as often as possible, maybe even while standing. Even though they still wake you they do speak softer and have some remorse about it. And 10.) Drink...heavily...jk...

Resolutions...

We have now reached the time of year where we subscribe to the idea that if we write down everything we want to change about ourselves in the new year we will accomplish it. We all know this isn't generally true, if there's something you would like to change about yourself you would have most likely accomplished it already. That being said this is more of a fun tradition we (not necessarily me) enjoy repeating. Here are my New Years resolutions, in no particular order mind you...
1.) Stop watching trash TV shows, or at least stop acknowledging that I watch trash TV shows to be respected as an intellectual more :P
2.) Lose 10lbs, well maybe 20lbs, well probably 40lbs, well...
3.) Don't yell at the kids anymore...or teach them to stop provoking me to yell at them, whichever is easiest.
4.) Keep on top of all of my house cleaning, or hire a maid, either way I may have to sell the kids to keep this resolution.
5.) Buy more underwear. This may seem like TMI however my britches are holier than Jesus these days
6.) Don't gossip. Or at least if I am going to gossip make sure it's really good so I don't feel guilty. Jk
7.) Spend more time with my husband.
8.) Wait on having anymore kids for at least a year.
9.) Well 7 and 8 kind of cancel each other out so I'm going to have to nix one...sorry babe ;)
10.) Blog more. Really this is the only time when I semi use the right hemisphere of my brain, and I can't let that go to pot if I'm going to be an eccentric old lady who wears wholly britches and carries stuffed pets around as my friends.

So here's my list. Keep coming back to see how my adventures in underwear buying, house cleaning, working, and losing weight this year turn out...