Foot-in-Mouth Disorder

I have a disease and it seems to be getting worse with age and with motherhood.

I have never been diagnosed by a doctor, but I know that it is very real and that is causes me much discomfort. I like to refer to it as "Foot-in-Mouth Disorder."

If you have never heard of this issue, here are the symptoms:

• Mouth opening at inopportune moments, spilling forth the worst possible words at the worst possible moment
• Misrepresenting oneself by unintentionally saying something that 1. does not accurately represent what one was thinking or trying to say and 2. can come across as inappropriate or insulting to the receiver
• Making sarcastic jokes that are not seen as such by receiver

This disorder is often genetic, although it has been known to spontaneously strike a person from time-to-time (although, scientists are finding evidence that this may be caused when two latent carriers of the gene pass it on to their offspring).

I myself inherited from my father's line and have struggled with it my entire life. It really does get progressively worse.

Just today, in fact, I made myself appear to be an insensitive, non-accepting jerk, and all because I misunderstood a reference someone else made. Maybe the only cure is to learn the art of self-control and listening. Who knows!

All I know is this: My husband thinks my problem is funny, my dad relates well with it, and one of my supervisors, I'm pretty sure, thinks I'm an idiot.

I just hope I don't pass this gene on to my children....

Lessons of Motherhood

I have not been a mother long and cannot claim to have any real wisdom to pass on to those who are expecting or dreaming of motherhood. Still, the past eight months have taught me a thing or two about being a mommy and a wife. While some of these lessons apply to those roles specifically, some can apply to all areas of life. And those are my favorite kinds of things to learn.

Here is some of the wisdom I have gained:

• Expect the unexpected. Babies are completely unpredictable and amazing. I live on the edge of my seat these days, waiting for the next surprise.
  
• Not all surprises are good, but most are pretty entertaining. Surprises like, "how did that get in your mouth?!" are not good and can be scary. Surprises like, "what on earth are you doing taking all of the wipes out of the box?!" can be bad, in theory, but are also very funny. The thing about all surprises, good or bad, is to find the humor in them. Or to brace yourself and keep a clear head. Whichever applies.


• Things happen and, when they do, take the opportunity to learn from the experience. The same applies to approaching an infant who is practicing a new skill. It is okay to fail or fall so long as you learn.


• June Cleaver was a fictional character. I'll never be her, but I'm okay with that. I'm more colorful and a lot more fun. And my daughter likes me the way I am.


• Most interior designers must not have children or, if they do, they are super human. I would love to have a posh space that looks like it jumped from the pages of a magazine, but I am learning that 1. it takes a lot of time and money (things I don't have) and 2. those designs, while awesome, are not necessarily kid friendly. Am I disappointed that most of my walls are bare and that my couch is stained? Sure, it bugs me a little. But it also stands as a reminder that I have more important things to worry about.


• Worrying is overrated. A little worry is healthy. A lot of worry can give you heart problems. I'm learning to let go and realize that, most likely, it will all be okay.
• Patience. It is a good thing to have, but is hard to find. When all else fails, I let out my frustration and then find something to laugh about. Esther and Tim can test my patience like no other and, yet, they are also the biggest clowns. I find it harder to hold onto anger these days because there is so much to smile about!
• My child will love me even if I am a nut case, which I am most of the time. I can be grumpy and I can be over protective. I like to give her kisses and act crazy just to make her laugh (she laughs at me a lot. I'm not sure if she thinks I am funny or if she feels sorry for me). I'm a hormonal, emotional person and always have been. Motherhood has not made that better. I used to worry, but I am learning that kids love their parents no matter how silly they are.
• My husband will think I'm hot no matter how frumpy I dress or how much weight I gain (but that's not an excuse to go completely dark side, either). Do I believe him when he says, "you're not fat"? Not in the least, but I appreciate that he is still attracted to me. It does wonders for my self-esteem!

I could spend all day writing the things I have learned, but I will leave it there for now.

Until next time...

Ode to Men or, More Specifically, My Husband...

I love my husband more than words can describe.

Before I met him, I was a pretty big feminist. I was all for heralding the greatness of women at the expense of men. I didn't hate men, I was actually quite enamored by the opposite sex, but I saw how unjustly women are treated in society and it angered me to a degree. I knew a few good men, namely my father and brother, but had had poor experiences with others. Needless to say, I was all about woman power.

And then Tim happened.

The instant our eyes met, I knew there was something wonderfully amazing about him. He had gentle, kind eyes and a reassuring smile. He was strong and unbelievably handsome. And one could tell, just by looking at him, that there were many complicated sides to this man.

I was hooked (a phrase that, as a man who loves to fish, he enjoys hearing).

Over the course of our dating and, now our marriage, I have learned a lot about him that surprises me to no end.

Here are just a few:

1. Tim loves to hunt and fish (emphasis on fish), but has the biggest respect for God's creation I have ever seen. For the most part, he believes in taking what you need and will use and then leave the rest.


2. He knows nearly everything there is to know about Alaska's wild - from the birds that occupy the trees to the different types of grass in the field to what you can or cannot eat. He's the kind of guy anyone would love to be with in a survival situation.


3. He's a gentleman. He is always going out of his way to serve others before himself.


4. He is very artistic. This man can do it anything: play the piano by ear, paint, take beautiful pictures, dance (he taught me to ballroom dance on our sixth date), act, sing. You name it, he can do it.


5. He is sensitive and deep. He likes to claim that, as a man, he has a blank head full of empty thoughts, but I know better. He considers everything before deciding which path to take. He has things that bother him and move him. He can be just as easily hurt as I can be.


6. Most importantly, he is the most loving and thoughtful man alive. When he commits to loving someone, he does it with his whole heart. He very honestly believes that his wife and child are the most important people in the world and he fiercely defends us and provides for us.

That is only the tip of who Tim is and only a small fragment of what makes me love him.

Loving Tim has shown me something about men that I never considered: they don't get credit for what they really do.

We women are quick to point out their flaws. We are quick to judge them for everything they apparently lack. I think, because we have had to fight to prove our equality, we have gotten into this mode of not appreciating the finer points of men.

We "ooh" and "ah" over their good looks and nice bodies, but refer to them as unfeeling neanderthals. We claim that they are insensitive and unmotivated. And some are. But should we judge the entire sex by those that give them a bad name? And, in reality, how much of that is truly a man thing? I am starting to believe that the main reason men act over-confident and insensitive is because they are insecure. And because, for centuries, they have been told to behave a certain way and ignore their emotions.

I have a new-found appreciation of real men. They are the ones who work hard for their families, who are real with their wives, who are great daddies, who are intricate and lovable. Men who encompass true strength: strength of character and faith.

I have learned that gender differences are not such a bad thing. We can be equal in many ways, but it is okay to embrace the distinctions that make men and women perfect for each other.

I want to thank my husband for showing me how incredible men can truly be. You are my balance in life and I am so blessed to wake up next you each morning.

I love you, babe, more and more with each passing day!

Growing Into Being a Mommy

I remember what it was like being a teenager. I'm not very far removed from that time, although I guess that 6 years can seem like forever. Still, I remember exactly how I felt when I was sixteen. I felt invincible. I honestly believed that I knew everything and could face anything that life threw at me. I was a very shy teen, yet I had that false confidence that I believe most adolescences carry about with them.

I was reminded of these feelings the other day as I observed a group of teen girls walking down the sidewalk as if they owned the town. They walked with that youthful swagger, one that reads, "I'm on top of the world and am the most important person that ever was." Their hands flitted about and their girly voices, jabbering in that serious yet immature fashion, echoed from across the street.

Yes, I remember what it was like to be like them.

Probably because, in my own way, I'm not much different.

I went to college when I was 17 and discovered that the world was much bigger than me.

I met people from all over the world - people, who like me, had traveled far enough from their homes to feel inadequately prepared to face this new challenge. I quickly befriended the foreign students and learned from them just how little I really knew about anything. We were the same in many ways and, yet, the differences were enough to teach me that I was very ignorant and naive.

After college, I realized that there were things I had to be responsible for. I had to get a full-time job, pay bills, and maintain my car. Mom and dad let me live with them, so I was still pretty sheltered, but beyond that, I was responsible for taking care of the things that were mine.

After three years of working and living for myself, I met my husband. My world literally stopped spinning. Everything around me grew eerily still as I stared at the most handsome, genuine man I had ever laid eyes on. I stopped knowing everything at that point. This was uncharted territory, so far beyond anything I had ever known up to that moment, and I approached it with a mix of excitement and fear.


We had a whirlwind courtship and engagement followed by a whirlwind wedding, which turned out beautifully. We were in love and had waited long enough (25 years of singledom. 25 years of virginity. 25 years of bemoaning the fact that I was doomed to be a spinster. 25 long years, most of which was spent dreaming of the perfect man and really believing I would never meet him). We had known each other exactly 7 months when we exchanged vows.

I learned a lot right out of the gate. One, I was still completely immature, although arguably more mature than I would have been had I married at twenty-one as originally planned. Two, that I was completely unaware of how truly different men and women are (and how those differences, at times, can lead to misunderstandings). And three, how difficult it was (and is) to balance two families vying for our time with the need and desire to spend every second with each other.

And then we got this silly idea. We wanted to start growing our family right away. Why? Because my biological clock was ticking. Because I had read that the closer I got to 35, the harder it would be. Because I wanted at least three kids and so did Tim.

So we didn't take any precautions and left it all up to God and His timing. Sure enough, about two months after our wedding day, we conceived our darling daughter.

Her conception came as a surprise. After a couple of months of pregnancy tests and disappointments, we had given up on the idea, thinking that we might have a long road ahead of us. And then I went to the doctor for an unrelated checkup. She offered to give me a pregnancy test after I described this horrible flu I was enduring. Five minutes later our lives changed.

Going into our pregnancy, we had no idea how much parenthood would change us. In a lot of ways, we were still children. And we were still newlyweds. Here my husband was, loving our moments of intimacy, but being turned down because I couldn't stomach the idea half of the time. We went through arguments and breakdowns. I became a hormonal basket case, crying over every little thing and worrying myself sick in regards to the health of our child.

I am not sure how Tim managed to survive those nine months. He is truly amazing. Any man who can endure the ongoing wrath of a woman and still hold her hand through 18 hours of labor deserves a medal of honor at the very least.

My pregnancy proved, beyond all doubt, that I had yet to grow up. I was still very childish in my thinking and I had absolutely no clue before then.

When I held my daughter for the first time, relishing the feel of this tiny angel in my arms, I finally embraced the fact that I know nothing. I have no idea how to be the perfect wife or mother. I have no idea how to provide the very best for my little bug. I don't know how to keep a clean house or make a homemade meal that is ready by six. I don't know how to protect my family from danger. All these years that I thought I was growing up, that I believed were preparing me for the real world, had suddenly ceased to mean anything.

I was clueless, yet oddly accepting of that.

I'm not the center of the world and I know that now. But I am the center of my husband and child's world.

I do not know much at all, but I do know that I love my family fiercely and they love me in the same way.

God is watching over us, taking care of all the things I do not understand or cannot handle, and giving us a chance to really embrace the gift of family and the gift of love.

And, really, in this life, that is more precious and more special than being on top of the world.

My Statement Regarding Being a Working Mom

Being a working mom is not easy.



There, I said it.



It's not easy waking up extra early, after already being woke up several times that night, to prepare myself and my child for the day.



It not easy thinking about all the cute things my daughter did the night before and knowing that she is doing a thousand other cute things that I am missing.



A clean house? What's that?



A completely homemade dinner? I think I used to cook before I gave birth. It's been so long, I can't remember.



What do I do with my time? I nurse all evening and all night and express on my breaks at work. I change poopy diapers, bathe a screaming child, cuddle with my little love, smile as she plays with her daddy, work hard to put her to sleep at night, enjoy the hour of peace with my husband, and then wake up and prepare myself to work all day in front of a computer screen.



Her smile flashes through my mind at least a 100 times while I'm working. Her giggles ring in my ear. The imprint made by her hand lovingly rubbing my face is still there. And it kills me when I think about it.



No one told me that working away from her would be so difficult. I was told I would get used to it, that it wouldn't bother me after a couple of weeks. I think that those people are in denial.



Undoubtedly, I would much rather be with my daughter all day.



That being said, I'm doing what I have to do and I'm working to embrace that.



This was not a decision made lightly. I believe that many mothers who choose to work do so with a heavy heart. We love our kids and love to be with them.



But, in my experience, we're realistic about what we can and cannot do. And we work hard to provide for them.



Bills have to be paid. Health insurance, while not all it is cracked up to be, is necessary. I want the very best for my daughter and, sadly, that comes hand-in-hand with my need to work.

Still, I am working on being the best mommy I can be. There are a lot of hats to wear and I'm doing my best to wear them in style and not let my "ideal" get in the way of truly cherishing my daughter.