If I wrote a book...

I'd have no problem coming up with the title.  It'd be something like: I Am That Mom (It Seemed Like A Good Idea At the Time! Don't Judge).  
I see it and hear about it all the time: moms judging other moms.  The truth is, whether you're a mom or not, you don't know the whole side of the story.  This, really, applies to everything/everyone in life, but I think motherhood has influenced my perspective on this issue the most. Mirabel loves watching Disney princess movies right now.  Though she will always be my little princess, I'm not going to lie...of all the Disney characters I know of, she resembles Mowgli from the Jungle Book the most.  This kid is something else.  When she gets home, she likes to strip off all her clothing, except her underwear (but she usually requests a new pair about 3 times a day).  Then she begins to scream about her hair.  If the pigtails aren't snugly glued to her head (not literally, but she hates when they start to slip), the screaming begins.  I'm not exaggerating.  In fact, I believe saying she screams puts it lightly.  It's an ear piercing cry that sounds a whole lot like what you'd hear out in the wild: it's the sound of a suffering animal giving its final cry, after it's been ripped apart by a ruthless beast.  Yes, this happens on the daily, multiple times.
So, of course, when it's too hot to go to the park (triple digits out), I try to find something fun to do indoors.  Fun is probably not the word I should use.  Entertaining and fun aren't the same thing, I've learned, at least not for all parties involved.  A clever idea of mine: I know, why don't I take my kids to the LIBRARY?!  Yes, because, given the fact that even my youngest prefers to spend time playing/rolling/bathing in the dirt (or eating it) buck naked (or with just a diaper on), I can't imagine why the kiddos wouldn't want to quietly cuddle up and read a beautifully illustrated book with more words than a Charles Dickens novel (why are all children's books so lengthy!!!!  Ok, maybe getting thru one page doesn't really take an eternity...) 
Sometimes we actually go to the library to check out a book.  I've given that a break.  For some reason or another, these books usually get trapped/lost in random places, like between the bed and the wall (proof that my kid enjoys "reading" during her naptime, when I'm not in the room--of course she's quiet and still when I'm not around).  Then, when due date comes around, I can't find it... and chances are, despite the fact that I've had the book in my possession for a month, we've only gotten thru half (or the Cliff's notes version: I read two lines and silently read the rest to myself, then quickly summarize it in the most dramatic way possible, to keep them engaged for 5 seconds, or less.)
So keep this in mind when reading the following: A few young boys enter the library around the same time we do.  Then, we pass by another kid who kindly asks his mother if he can borrow a movie, the mother responds by saying, "No, we're getting books, we have plenty of movies at home."  I walk by holding not just 1, but 3 movies, because we don't own any Disney movies (and when I need a break from the screaming, I put on a movie...but why do I need to explain myself.  Oh wait!  I don't.)  Mirabel approaches this family with her beloved Ariel movie en tow.  She's the most outgoing kid in the bunch, and, thankfully, doesn't care what anyone thinks of her movie-watching (I could stand to learn a thing or two from this kid).  
After introducing herself to the family, she makes her way to the pile of giant stuffed animals in the children's section, where the boys we entered the library with are jumping/rolling around.  Mirabel joins in on the fun, and why not?  Man, I should've too.  Instead, I scurry around the early readers section, trying to quickly find a book with a theme Mirabel will appreciate, realizing this book is more for me than my kids.  Meanwhile, Juliette is climbing chairs in an effort to reach the tabletop, since that's the most dangerously exciting thing she can do in that part of the library at the moment.  Two minutes pass, and I decide it's time to leave (we're heading to the Toybrary after this, because going to one library wasn't enough. ;)  Thankfully, we get out of there without any tears.  Success!  (It's the little things that make you smile, really.)  Leaving without tears is progress, yesssss!!!!
So, we head to the Toybrary for a Teddy Bear Tea Party!  Mirabel decides she wants to bring her naked barbie along instead of her bear (I think Mirabel would prefer to attend without clothing, too, but I convince her that we aren't attending a tea party at a commune.  I can't blame her, I want to strip down when it's 1,000 degrees too.)  Before the tea party begins, kids from various ages gather around to play in this colorful indoor space which is really set up to test their sharing skills.  We have a few frustrating moments, involving a certain broom (yes, a broom, I've trained my kid well; she loves being domestic already!  Heck yeah!).  A certain toddler about a year younger than Mirabel is convinced he needs this broom to survive.  A tantrum begins, and this time it's not my kid, though I empathize with the mother because it looks like that mom has a Mowgli of her own.  I pull Mirabel aside and explain to her that the little boy is younger than her, and that she should share the broom with him because he is sad.  She walks over to the boy and hands him the broom!  Holy smokes, a miracle!!!!  Suddenly, my hearing returns in spite of all the screaming fits that took place that week, and I feel like a rockstar!  Heck yes.  Mom walks over to me, and gives me props, saying, "Your daughter is so sweet!".  I ignore her for a few seconds while I dust the dirt off my shoulders, and then I say, "It took us awhile to get here, but thank you."  I hope she's encouraged, too, because it takes time...  And a lot of tears, from everyone.
Then, not long after that, when the story begins, one of my kids climbs onto the stage while the other one pulls up a chair and begins climbing onto the shop owner's desk, while very loudly begging her to open the door to the other playroom.  Of course, both of the moms I'm next to (actually, all the mothers in the room) have these quiet little girls sitting peacefully beside them with these elaborate lunches before them (the crusty ends of a smashed peanut butter and honey sandwich, what I whipped together while one kid was crying and the other was asking a million questions, are hiding in the lunch bag I brought along).  They don't speak above a whisper, I think, or maybe my hearing is going again because all I hear are my oldest's deafening screams?  This time, leaving is a struggle.  I try to use my superhero mom multitasking skills to find a way to fly out the door while carrying two flailing, fussy children.  But somehow, thankfully, the tantrum only lasts 15 seconds.  Then, the battle is over and we head to the grocery store, our other favorite hangout.  It's air conditioned, right?! 
 A few more dramatic moments and then we begin slowing down for the afternoon.  Somehow, we end up outside without much clothing on again (I still have mine on, because it's a good day).  My children are angels outdoors.  I cannot tell you what peace they have about them when they're covered in dirt and sunshine.  I text Jose and tell him that we need to start saving up to move to a farm with acres of land, because that would easily solve all our problems, right? :)  Then, we watch Mulan.  
It's a good day; I've learned to get over it, or I'm learning.  And it's not just about learning to get over the tantrums, those are inevitably going to happen at this age.  So are the judgey looks and the "words of advice" from random people who think they've got it figured out--the folks who are convinced their children behave in all circumstances because they are stellar parents--as if they really have something to do with it at their children's tender age of 2 or 3.  But what they don't have figured out is the obvious: we are all born with certain strengths and weaknesses.  We all come out screaming.  Hopefully, if we're lucky, we're tossed into the loving arms of the clueless creatures we call parents.  Hopefully, they love us and want the best for us, because everyone deserves that much.  Just because my children watch Disney movies doesn't mean they will amount to nothing but Cheeto-eating (or sponge-chewing, if your name is Juju) couch poatoes with an IQ of 5, or that they will never appreciate a good book.  Somehow, her parents came out ok ;).
The truth is, there's something we can all learn from each other.  I learn something from my little Mowgli's every day.  In the wise words of another beloved Disney character, Pinocchio, "Always let your conscience be your guide."  As a parent, instead of worrying about what other parents think of you, ask yourself what influences your conscience, or rather, who.  I seek to follow in the footsteps of the ultimate Father.  I've lost my way many times, but He still helps me out even when I'm kicking and screaming.  I owe my children that much.  I'm still learning, too, because it never stops.  

Amazing Moms

Last week, I came across a blogger who has had to deal with so much more than most mom bloggers, I'd say.  She's an inspiration because of her unwavering faith and trust in God during a time that most of us might even doubt his existence.  Her love for her children and family shines thru in every post, and you should go check out her blog here.

Then, today, a friend shared another lovely lady's blog.  Just read about her on her bio page and you'll be amazed...read THIS STORY and your heart will melt; more love and strength pouring out.  

And...her kids are hilarious.  Read this if you don't believe me ;).

Yes!

YES yes yes!!!  I'm so dang excited, I could hardly shut up last night and fall asleep because I kept talking to Jose about what we were researching all day... online graduate degree programs!!!!  I can't wait to be a student again!!!
My heart is about to burst from the excitement.  Let me begin by saying that in undergrad, I changed my major 5 times.  Yes, FIVE!  I feel like I didn't quite fit anywhere.  I wanted to be an elementary school teacher, but I also loved to write.  So I did English and minored in Applied Learning and Development, and figured I could become a teacher later.  
Then... I had kids.  That was not a setback or an inferior choice.  In fact, I'm glad I had them because I don't think I would've really figured things out without them.  After having Mirabel, I tossed around the idea of going on to study child development a bit more.  Maybe become a school counselor.  I really loved all of my child development classes/labs.  I've also wanted to open up a bakery, a gluten-free one.  But at the end of the day, I wouldn't feel right just baking cakes and cookies all day.  Yes, baking desserts for people can make the world a happier place, temporarily... still wasn't feeling it all the way, though.  And, hey, I may do it later on in life, but...
HB2 happened.  Not only that, but I've always been very passionate about many of the issues behind it.  In middle school/high school, I would visit care pregnancy centers with my mom, sometimes we'd volunteer.  I've wanted to counsel there for years.  In college, I looked into becoming a counselor there...but then other things came up.  The desire to help has always been there, and lately that desire has become more of an, "I need to do this, no excuses!" type of thing.  After HB2, I knew I couldn't make anymore excuses.
There are going to be a lot more babies born into a variety of difficult circumstances.  My favorite quote comes to mind,  "It is easier to build strong children than repair broken men" (Frederick Douglas).  What else comes to mind?  So many other horrific events that have happened lately, all related to the break down of family and insecure parental attachments, maybe not in obvious ways but definitely related.  From the heartbroken mothers on "I'm Having Their Baby," who can't keep their babies because they have no familial support system, and who find themselves struggling because their own parental relationships were likely not where they should be... to boys brainwashed by terrorism, whose mothers are not who they should be, or where she should be.  (I read that Rolling Stone article, and it has break down of family written all over it, definitely among other things.)  
All of this, yes all of it, coupled with the convictions stirred up after reading the book I mentioned in my last post... Not to mention, a study that Jose discussed with me that was brought up in a different book he is reading.  It's a study that mentions how children can grow up psychologically stable in spite of difficult extenuating circumstances if the attachments with their mothers are secure (a mothers role is so much more important that society thinks!).
And I won't get over the fact that I have been blessed and spared myself--can't ignore the motivating force behind a personal testimony.    
Have you ever felt like everything was pointing you in a certain direction?  Or I should say that God was just showing you so many things, all related to the one thing you just can't ignore anymore?  That's how I feel right now.  And I'm not scared anymore, that's how I know it's the right thing to do. There will be Math (ahhh, yikes!  My brain was not made for it).  There will be tears; late nights; tests.  There will be situations that I cannot improve--all of these situations I will have to leave in God's hands.  I will say, though, he has made a way and will make a way.  
We've done research over the weekend, and I think we've found the right program.  To sum up future plans, basically I will get my MA in Marriage and Family therapy, then I will find a way to get an internship that specializes in child-parent psychotherapy (CPP).  I will be doing this over the course of the next four years (because I will be going at a snail's pace, still taking care of my kiddos ;)... and one day, I hope to do a few other things, but for now I'm just embarking on the first step of this adventure by enrolling in a statistics class. (Please keep me in your prayers!!!  Thankfully my hubby is a math wiz, so I've got a great tutor that I can pay in cookies. ;)   (I know stats may not be a big deal to some, but, seriously, if you know me...you KNOW this is a big step for a math weenie like me. ;)

"I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always..."

 Mirabel outside of Savenor's in Cambridge, MA.  May 2011.  And that's Julia Child's writing in the pavement!

This past weekend was a rainy one.  Very refreshing for July.  I can't remember the last time it rained in July, in Austin.  We stayed home on Sunday and spent naptime organizing photos.  I think we have more than 21K now (I've got a great camera on my phone that I love to use!).  
Looking at photos is bittersweet.  Jose used to insist that it was impossible to enjoy a moment if I was hiding behind a camera the whole time.  But now that our kids are growing up (well, Mirabel is 3 and time's flying by to me), he doesn't complain much about it anymore ;).  I don't want to forget these moments.  I've already forgotten how squishy Mirabel's rolly legs used to feel like.  I'm glad I at least have those pictures.  One thing I can't forget: How tough it was being a mom the first time around.
I remember waiting for the day she could walk, somehow thinking it would get easier (Ha! Amateur!).  But Mirabel didn't walk, she ran...and she didn't stop, until she was almost 3.  I savor these last few pre-walking days with Juliette, even though she is quite squirmy in my arms.  At 11 months, she's already trying to take off at the store, even though she doesn't get very far doing the army crawl and the sideways moonwalk.  You should've seen me today at Mirabel's ballet class.  There were a few other pre-walkers there, but Juju was the only one squirming until I put her down, and wiggling across the floor in search of a goldfish crumb or two, or maybe even a leaf.  She's so curious and energetic, but still squishy.  
Before Juliette was born, I managed to finish a scrapbook with a few favorite pictures from Mirabel's first year.  I haven't even started on Juliette's.  2 years ago, I bought a first year picture collage frame for Mirabel.  I tried buying one for Juliette yesterday, at the same store, and they no longer sell it.  I was more sad about it than I should've been.  Mom guilt, anyone?  But looking at those pictures over the weekend made me feel like I'd already lost my first baby and I was beginning to lose my second.  I mentioned it to Jose, and in that same conversation I realized that we're also gaining something more than what we had before.  Little did I know 3 years ago that Mirabel would someday love to dance, would befriend any passer-by with a friendly hello (followed by a hug), would want to watch Beauty and the Beast 3 times in one week, and would love to make robots from empty cartons... These moments are just as priceless as the ones before, and I'm slowly learning to live in and appreciate right now, and not yesterday or tomorrow, whether the babies are squishy or not.

Strawberry picking in Fredericksburg, TX.
As lovely as it all sounds, I've also had the opportunity to witness a few less pleasant traits blossom in this child whose personality is as curly as her ringlets.  Yes, she was the one expressing her frustration quite loudly today in class, as she struggled to put on her tap shoes all by herself.  And I admit, this is another moment that I wish I could press rewind or fast forward.  (Then I realize I don't really want to press fast forward, because if she's like this now, how will she be at 16 ;)?)  I see the little hairs on her head curl even tighter with every impatient scream... and I remember that God has a sense of humor.
Even though it wasn't fun to watch, I didn't take it too personally today.  Because, like everything else, that moment passed.  And I also remembered what I'd read just a few days prior, in a book that has been incredibly encouraging, and has given me a new perspective on moments like these that make up the beauty of motherhood... Drum roll, please.  That book is called: The Mission of Motherhood by Sally Clarkson.
It's like a refreshing slap in the face.  It's honest and so right on.  I think I've highlighted 98.9% of the book so far, but here are my favorite quotes,  the ones that are setting me straight:

"...servant leadership is the model that Jesus gave to us for all areas of our lives, including our roles as mothers.  He reached the minds, hearts and lives of his disciples not just by telling them what to do but by serving them in love--an example the contrasts starkly to the common view of what leadership is all about." (p. 63)
"Choosing to be a servant-mother means willingly giving up myself, my expectations, and my time to the task of mothering--and choosing to believe that doing so is the best use of my time at that moment.  It means that, by faith, I have already made a decision to make myself available in the routine tasks and myriad interruptions of daily life because I believe it is God's will for me to serve my family through them.  Making this choice ahead of time means I will expect problems and needs to arise and be ready to deal with them in peace instead of impatience and resentment." (p. 67)
"...the future is not where real life began.  Each day was God's perfect will for me.  There would be no wasted years of 'just taking care of the needs of my young children.' On the contrary, these years would be the most important of my life." (p. 68)

Juju almost a year ago!  She'll be a year next month!