Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Halloween Costumes
As I watch my kids run around in their new (to them) Halloween costumes, I reflect on Halloween's past. Over the past 6 years, their dad and I have made some cool and not so cool choices. All of the kids have been an animal of some sort; cows, lady bugs and bunnies, oh my! Then there were the traditional years: a pumpkin, a witch, and a pirate (who was very ghetto and kept taking off his homemade peg leg, hook and pirate hat and really just ended up looking like one of those punk kids who don't dress up and walk around expecting candy anyway). We have had character years, SpongeBob (Becca) and a Care Bear (Daniel). I'm still getting flak from Jeff about the Care Bear. I maintain that since he was blue and only two, he was cute not gay. And that distinction brings us to our most cautionary of costume genres. If you have a son, then chances are great that you will have a number of Halloweens as various super heroes. Spend the extra money for the costumes with padding, because long after the mask is gone, the tight fitting unitard remains and the Incredible Hulk becomes a not so masculine Peter Pan. Hmm . . . my Barbie cheerleader is about to nail the Blue Ranger with a Tinkerbell chair, so I better conclude my Halloween ruminations. Hope everyone has a safe and happy Halloween.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Cold Coffee, Warm Beer and other Truths About Motherhood
Some things about becoming a mom are a given, or at least common place enough that we don't question them - - stretch marks, wider hips, and a certain amount of sleep deprivation to name a few. Other things can come as a shock (or at least they did to me). Like the fact that at least for the first few years it will become a luxury to drink a beverage at the proper temperature. I cannot begin to calculate the number of times that I have poured myself a cup of coffee, only to have some sort of emergency arise that only Mommy can solve. By the time I am able to sit down again and raise that glorious caffeine to my lips the coffee has become stone cold. And if you dare to treat yourself to an icy brew, be prepared because you have one to two sips to take before the same thing happens, only you return to a lukewarm beverage - - the very antithesis of a "cold one."
Another thing that came as a shock were the physical changes. Not the aforementioned ones, but rather things that I never dreamed that would happen, like the changes to my hair and boobs. Okay, I know it's shallow, but the hair thing just made me mad. Where my hair was once sleek and shiny, it is now dull and frizzy. If a woman's hair is her crowning glory, then mine has abdicated her throne. The thing with hair is a good cut and color can help a lot, unlike the extremes you must go to if you want to salvage your ta tas. All of the literature and books that tell you that breastfeeding does not ruin your boobs lie. Now, I was happy to nurse my babies, and I would not trade that experience for all of the perky C's in the world, but I would be lying if I said that I was not bothered by the deflated balloons that I see in the mirror. Seriously, I could handle a smaller cup size, but this new shape (or lack there of) is a real downer. Short of plastic surgery, the best you can hope for is a decent padded bra.
Of course it is the benefits of motherhood that make the sacrifices worth while. Like the absolute peace that I felt nursing my babies (after the sore nipples, latching on, and engorgement issues), or the thrill of watching a two year old develop in to a talking, thinking, independent little person. I still stare at my first grader in amazement as I hear him read words like "sumptuous," and delight in my four year old who has a steadier hand with a paintbrush than I do. For me, the most awesome thing about motherhood has been getting a glimpse of the love that God has for His children. Just feeling what must be a fraction of what unconditional love is has been humbling. In all the ups and downs, trials and triumphs, I am delighted to be on this journey called motherhood.
Another thing that came as a shock were the physical changes. Not the aforementioned ones, but rather things that I never dreamed that would happen, like the changes to my hair and boobs. Okay, I know it's shallow, but the hair thing just made me mad. Where my hair was once sleek and shiny, it is now dull and frizzy. If a woman's hair is her crowning glory, then mine has abdicated her throne. The thing with hair is a good cut and color can help a lot, unlike the extremes you must go to if you want to salvage your ta tas. All of the literature and books that tell you that breastfeeding does not ruin your boobs lie. Now, I was happy to nurse my babies, and I would not trade that experience for all of the perky C's in the world, but I would be lying if I said that I was not bothered by the deflated balloons that I see in the mirror. Seriously, I could handle a smaller cup size, but this new shape (or lack there of) is a real downer. Short of plastic surgery, the best you can hope for is a decent padded bra.
Of course it is the benefits of motherhood that make the sacrifices worth while. Like the absolute peace that I felt nursing my babies (after the sore nipples, latching on, and engorgement issues), or the thrill of watching a two year old develop in to a talking, thinking, independent little person. I still stare at my first grader in amazement as I hear him read words like "sumptuous," and delight in my four year old who has a steadier hand with a paintbrush than I do. For me, the most awesome thing about motherhood has been getting a glimpse of the love that God has for His children. Just feeling what must be a fraction of what unconditional love is has been humbling. In all the ups and downs, trials and triumphs, I am delighted to be on this journey called motherhood.
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