Time to Lose Control

This is my Mickey Mouse pancake. I’ve never been more proud of anything in my life. 

So, in light of the Manic Monday Mayhem I’ve been experiencing, I thought it would be a good idea to remind myself (and whomever else may need to know) about the importance of giving up control. This does not mean sitting idly by and watching life happen. It simply means to understand yourself, your limits, and the fact that you are not God. I mean, you are important, don’t get me wrong. But all-seeing and doing? Not hardly.

Being so hip to social media and all, I see these moms who go to all the kids’ soccer games — 8 kids in some cases. They make boutique bakery quality gluten-free delights for the PTA bake sale. They MacGuyver old milk jugs, barbed wire, and kitty litter into some amazing craft creation. They are ever-patient when their well-manicured brood behaves badly. They are cut out to do this… and I am not. At least that’s how I feel sometimes.

It’s like high school all over again. The pressure is on to be the perfect mom. I find myself breaking my neck, back, and bank account trying to do things I really don’t have to (and/or CAN’T). I wanna hang with the cool Martha Stewart moms talking appetizers and mod podge. I want to scrapbook and cook dinner and still be able to play Candyland when the dishes are washed and put away. I want to buy only organic food and all natural fibers. I want to give my kids the absolute best.

Truth is, my best appetizer isn’t cooked and involves tuna.. oh yeah, tuna. I only use craft glue to fix fallen hems and my scrapbook is a manila folder with some stuff thrown in in something that may or may not be chronological order. The clean dishes only leave the rack to be used and occasionally a chicken nugget happens. Even with all these shortcomings I don’t doubt my children still receive the best. I don’t doubt that I’m a good mother. I don’t doubt their being amazing children as children are amazing by default.

I am not good at everything. I can only try to play up my strengths and use the gifts that God has given me. Everybody will not like me or what I do. I cannot control that — what matters most is my opinion of me. I will not necessarily like everyone or what they do. I cannot control that — I can only control how I choose to react to them. I cannot be everywhere (and who would want to be?) — I can prioritize and cut all the “extra” out of my life.

I cannot do everything — but I can do most anything and that is okay by me.



I Won’t Miss the Month of May

Last month had to be one of the most trying months in my life. I am actually pretty proud of having powered through much of it, but I’m mentally drained to say the least. Physically, I’m feeling better and though I’m not completely healed, I’m done with dressing changes. So, that’s one month of narcotic painkillers and a newly slashed Krueger boob. Check!

Prior to my last check in, my breast was behaving badly. The entire ordeal has been stressful and has really shaken my confidence in Kaiser Permanente. I had wonderful childbirth experiences but this? I truly feel this was an avoidable situation brought on by a procedure done there (which two doctors seemed to also believe). I was disappointed in my treatment AND the way I was treated. More times than not, the staff is outstanding. Not so much in some instances this last go round.

How’d it start? It started here. I ended up in the hospital, had it handled and was well on my way to recovery. Wet-to-dry packing aside, all was going fairly well. Finals rolled around for school soon after and though I’m talented, I could not focus on finishing my paper as I was either hurting or in a Norco haze. I was stressed out but didn’t really need to worry because I wouldn’t be home to turn the assignment in. On the due date I was  back in the hospital… twice that day, actually. 

They tagged me and released me into the wild and a few days later I returned for my follow-up. The bandage change was not the best, but it is what it is I suppose. Fast forward to the when the pain pill made me really sick on the way home and I ruined my brand spanking new “shrinkin my FUPA and I’m feeling sexay” shirt… and my car interior… smelled like sesame salmon for days. 🙁

Today, the wound is still healing. There is pain but, I’ll just have to wait and see what (if anything) crops up. In the meantime, I have classwork to finish and two beautiful babies to tend to. Life is great, but last month sure was a wild ride. I’ll take my usual, maddening, emergency-room-visit-free, three ring circus ANY day of the week.


When Good Enough Will Do

Not sure if I mentioned this before, but I am a student at American River College here in Sacramento. I am currently studying Interior Design and I hope to earn an A.A. in a year or two. This means I have to take Gen Ed classes (again) as well. Ten years ago this would have been a breeze. Today, two kids and house and a husband later, it’s not so easy.

Fortunately, I am much more proficient with schoolwork than I was as a youngster. I go ahead and start on my assignments (because we all know that procrastination leads to sugar fueled workathons followed by red-bull resistant crashes). I actually pay attention and take notes and overall I have figured out how to be a better student.

Of all the things I’ve learned during my off-again-on-again years in school, knowing when to settle has been the most important lesson of all. I used to kill myself trying to get the perfect score or redo a project repeatedly until it looked just so. I would have not turned in an assignment rather than hand in a half-hearted one.

Now, I know better. For the past few weeks I’ve been acting like I don’t know better, but I do. I have a class that has been giving me fits. It’s caused me to doubt my capability and that is something I am not comfortable with. I’ve literally stressed myself to sickness over it (read that saga here). No more! No mas, not even, no way, nu uhn, heck to the naw, negative, nopesies. You aren’t gonna get the best of me again, paper for class.

I have decided that I will do the absolute best I can do on it and hand it in without looking back. I may not be the best writer in the world, but I’m certainly not the worst — definitely not D material. But if that’s what I manage to get, so be it. At this point I just want outta there. Barely passing will have to be good enough… and good enough will do.

*Please note that I really do want to be able to come back and report that I did awesome but the odds aren’t in my favor on that one. Say a little prayer for me, would ya?


Clicked into Oblivion — A n00b’s Oopsy

Well. That was a hard lesson learned. I’d written a semi-alright post about my anniversary trip to Reno and posted it. Being so pleased with having made another post and all, I decided “I should clean out my drafts. If I’m going to do this I should be organized about it.” Hahaaaaaaaa!

So, as I’m checking drafts to delete, sonny boy starts awailin’ and on cue his sister joins in behind him. So I bring him to the computer to multi-task – ya know, rock him so he’ll take the nap he needs while I finish the seemingly simple task of deleting the, ohhhh I dunno, 5 drafts I had to delete.

So kids are bellowing, Mama’s rocking, Mama’s hitting delete, Sonny’s pulling Mama’s hair, Mama’s CONFIRMING DELETE… and seeing post list… and seeing… OMG. No, no no no, this can’t be right! It is! I manage to keep the stream of expletives from running down my brainstem and out my mouth. Still unable to really grasp what’s happening, I search for a fix. There is none – MMM is S.O.L. *side note: just grabbed sonny boy again only to have him throw up on me. Motherhood J

At any rate, I learned a few valuable lessons:

1.       Save a copy of your post somewhere else, genius. Kind of a given, I s’pose.

2.       Grab the permalink too. It could have saved my behind if I’d had it.

3.       DOUBLE and TRIPLE check before you confirm delete. You, even in all your awesomeness, can make a silly mistake too.

I will rewrite the Reno post later and it will be even better… but still, I vow to do everything I possibly can to avoid this in the future. For now, we’ll laugh this one off and call it a rookie mistake. I refuse to stress over it – ain’t nobody got time for that!