If you would have asked me how life with twins would look nine and a half years ago I quite possibly would have broken down into a pool of tears. The feeling of reality pummeling me in the gut, wrenching my comfortable existence, instantly changing life with one child to three overnight. However, I found this little piece of the world called blogging as my outlet to share the adventure of life with twins by simply posting updates. The updates were a genesis to keep family far and wide up to date on the excitement and novelty of twins, but eventually our tales became so much more than just updates. Stories about how real life happens in the most simplistic to the depths of emotional turmoil that shape who we are and who our children are to become. So far, that is what life with twins – nine years later – has been for The Chad and I. Continue reading “Life With Twins – Nine Years Later”
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Many moons ago I wrote this angry post about Mother’s Day and how horribly it sucked. I was a terrible communicator back then, my writing was uber raw, so my well intentions to support mothers in an everyday fashion went awry. I have since modified that post and felt it needed a revival from the years ago about why Mothers Day sucks. Continue reading “When Mothers Day Sucks”
As we grow older, we gain an amazing sense of wisdom and we also gain a sense of gratification with the life we have lived. Lately I have been able to spend a great deal of time with my aging parents and grandparents, reveling in the lives they have lived, soaking in all the experiences. My mother is one of the assisting caregivers for my grandparents in their aging process so I have had the opportunity to experience certain situations that come with age. Even the situations that are not pleasurable. For many older adults, incontinence is one of the things they worry about, and sometimes experience, the most.
Worrying about incontinence is very understandable. Sometimes there may be a bit of denial about adult diapers becoming a part of their daily life. Many adults do not like using the word “diaper”, and that is completely understandable. My grandfather is one of these adults, at the ripe age of 84, he does not want to accept getting older though his mind is as sharp as it was when he was 40; his body, unfortunately is not as sharp and neither is the muscle tone that aids us in our facilities as we age.
If you think your parent, patient, or someone else you love may have to take that step in wearing something to remain healthy and sanitary, here are some things that you may be able say to help him or her to feel better about and prepare them in the situation.
Provide Him Or Her With Samples
Many people hear “adult diapers” and they think about these big, bulky diapers. They immediately think about what a baby wears, and they imagine they will have to wear something like that. They think that if they wear those big diapers people will obviously know what they are wearing. That is not how things are anymore. The disposable briefs and underwear can be pulled up and down just like our normal briefs and underwear. You can provide samples that allow them to feel how comfortable they are. They will also be able to see how they will be the only one who knows they are wearing adult underwear.
You Don’t Have To Use The Word “Diapers”
No adult wants to feel like a baby or young child. If you want ease your parent or patient’s concern,
you can refer to the incontinence products as adult underwear or adult briefs. To some people, using
the word diaper can be a bit insulting. You don’t want to add insult to injury to someone who is
already having a difficult time accepting they may need assistance with incontinence.
If you feel as if you can have an appropriate and gentle conversation with him or her, you may have
to make them aware of the things you have noticed. Sometimes as adults get older, they cannot
smell as well as they used to. They may not be aware of a smell. Many adults and their family members fear incontinence, but if you are kind and considerate in your approach you can have a better chance of getting them to at least try them.
If you need help on choosing adult underwear or briefs for someone you love, or if you want to purchase samples to show them, click here to find out more to help work through this new transition in aging. What was helpful for my family is that Comfort Plus is a company based right here in Arizona. We didn’t have to worry about which representative and if a representative could assist us, we had peace of mind with dealing with a local organization.
While we would all love to age perfectly with grace, sometimes we have to accept that our bodies age faster than we would like. However, accepting the unpleasantness in aging does not mean that we have to be treated disgracefully. Incontinence products allows our aging loved ones to still be engaged in their activities without feeling embarrassed or insulted.
Talking with tweens is just another job moms carryout in our career. Nanny, maid, personal chef, short order cook, educator, project manager, team leader, manager, chauffeur, accountant, and double agent also come to mind on the short list of multifaceted careers as a parent. Double agent only came to mind as I crept into my six year old son’s room, like a thief in the night. Ever so carefully to not eek out a sound, plastering myself against the flat surface of a wall as not to be seen; which is ridiculous anyway when you have boobs and bright blond hair. All in the name of swapping a snarly tooth for various coins in an effort to challenge his knowledge and counting abilities. Alas I am the Tooth Fairy. I digress on the double agent job, if only it were sexier with firearms and thigh high stockings. Yet this is one of the the many careers we hold as parents.
Anyway, this rewarding career I currently hold as mom. I never really wanted to become a parent; mostly because I was a spiteful child to my mother’s threats of “just wait until you have your own kids,” I thought depriving my mother of the joy of becoming a grandmother was the way to go. I’m glad I was a bonehead and figured that dumb-ass move in my twenties was not a wise choice. Now that I am a parent, I really could not imagine life without my kids. My eldest just crossed into the tween years this year as he turned 11. Being at home again, I am really learning more and more about my kids and the people they are, who they are becoming. I am in full amazement and awe as these small individuals evolve, learning so much about life from them; learning a bit about myself on our journey as well. G as a now 11 year young man is like taming a giant, or a rhino,Â sometimes both depending on the day.
The boy is massive in every respect. He is a lean, muscular kid, who lacks solid coordination but makes up for it with the heart of a hero. Like I said, MASSIVE, even his heart. G has always been a sensitive boy; my family has no shortage of emotions, we wear them like badges of honor to a four star general, exposed on our sleeves, loud and proud. The Chad, while he will deny such accusations, is also a sensitive man; though the harsh reality of society and family of origin issues we all succumb to suppressing such humane gifts.
So last night when I cornered the boy to have him finally sit down and write out his thank you notes to friends and family for his birthday gifts, I saw the twinge of tween. The boy got a little snappy at me, call it attitude. I don’t do attitude. But I’m a parent, this is not about being right and this is not about me. Strapping on my sweet mommy voice that would charm any viper, but with the stern assertiveness of a Clydesdale I fired back. “Dude, why am I getting attitude, what’s wrong? Do you have something bothering you?”
In that simple question a world of opportunity opened for any adult to see what they were like at 11, remembering fifth or sixth grade, saving a giant of emotions. We huddled around the kitchen island as I pressed harder, like any good investigator (check, add that to the resume) and created a safe bubble for my son to share what he was experiencing. Free of expectation, I let my gentle giant unleash a barrage of daggers;
“I don’t feel accepted. I don’t want to be at school. I don’t want to be at home. My friends are good, my family is good. I don’t know how to explain it.”
Sweet Jesus. How DOES one explain this. So I went backwards, we initiated the discussion with the topic of his friends. No bullying, nothing alarming that would require an educator intervention, no name calling. Got it. Friends equal solid. Now onto the family unit. The Chad is good, twins…well they are who they are, and that’s all good, he is good with me. Solid. Home? Home is good, he wants to be here but something is nagging at him. Listening to his voice I fought back a rage of tears. When your kid is hurting you hurt. I don’t give a damn who you are; a pain sets off in you that causes your jaw to clench, your eyes burn with tears that you wish your inner super hero could dry away, and the muscles of your bottom lip curl and flex to maintain the stoic power of parent.Â Cue super hero music,I always think of the margarine commercial, Parkay. Now that we have excavated into the bowels of emotion, I clawed at my own scars when we addressed acceptance.
By this time my inner 11 year old girl was a blubbering mess. Recalling the pain of that age. The emotional turmoil. I watched the giant fall before me into tears as he rebuked his intelligence, his self-worth and his overall being based on grades he had received in his class. I felt my soul fall to her knees. Tears pour down my face now, but that moment they only welled in their ducts and I exercised parental stoicism to continue to listen to my boy, this young man, struggle with new emotions. New feelings. The new person he was evolving into, I couldn’t do anything to make this rite-of-passage into mid-adolescents any easier for him.
Coaxing my giant out from behind the island I hugged him with all I had. Pushing my love from my soul as it radiated into his arms and back, encapsulated him like a bubble, and smothered him until his tears had faded away. Sharing with him my timely story about failure, I related to him how I purposely failed pre-algebra. My parents were officially divorced, I now had a one year old half brother and newborn half sister to contend with, puberty that was very unkind to me with acne and school acquaintances that took great pleasure to lambast me at any opportunity. I reassured him that his “A minus” that he was so distraught over was a soaring accomplishment, his “D” that he received was not his lack of ability but his lack of interest to put forth solid effort and he failed to follow directions his instructor set out in the assignment. By no means do grades define who you are as a person.Â Constructive feedback is done lovingly, knowing his teacher, she knew he could rope the moon, she was giving him the lasso to do so. Reassuring G that he is intelligent, smart, talented, loving, able-bodied, and I could not be more proud of him.
My giant began to wield his rhinoceros style strength again as the tears melted into his cheeks and his sweet dimples appeared again. We both exposed our vulnerability, more so mine as a parent, relating to his struggles. Struggles I still encounter to this day as a grown woman. Part of me today ponders of the outcome had we not had this discussion after school, had I not taken the opportunity to talk to my tween. Had I been busy making a life for myself, engrossed in the delusional and empty corporate career path, I might have missed a career making opportunity of a lifetime talking with my son. Pondering other kids, who maybe lacked the emotional support of a parental unit/figure in their lives, to just ask, “how are you?” We forget how powerful our words impact lives, children and adults. How profound a simple, loving, truly genuine question like “how are you” can unlock a garden a vulnerability in anyone. How are you today?
Recently I ran a post about monster stains in laundry. Having three kids I can attest to LOTS of monster stains. Two toddlers, boy and girl, and an eight year old boy are royalty of mess making. Clothing is made to be an extension of a napkin by all means; swipes of the mouth end up on sleeves, hands are stroked against pant legs or right across the chest of a great shirt, usually their hands are a carrier of some “sauce”. Needless to say stains are not uncommon in our laundry chores.
Shortly after my Monster of a Stain post, my
demonic, beautiful and adorable daughter was treated to an organic fruit pop of sorts for dessert. It was strawberry or berry of some sort or it was just a mess of melted fruit pop because it was bright red and pink on her cute zebra print dress. The stain was striking against the black and white print. Her brand new dress I was worried would be stained permanently. Or so I thought.
I read the back of the Clorox2 bottle to see how to pretreat the stain so that I could have some chance to salvage her new dress that her grandmother had recently bought for her. Quite frankly it was adorable too so I was going to be as devastated as she if we could not eliminate the staining beast from the dress.
If you look at the dress it truly seemed as if there was no possible way any pretreatment, soaking, or bleaching could save this cute little dress from the rag bin. But I had faith and hoped for the best with her dress since she absolutely loves her fashion.
So I treated the stain and tossed it in for a wash with like colors. Tossed it in the dryer without inspecting whether the stain had come clean or not, again trying everything not to jinx myself.
The end result is pretty impressive and in no way what I expected by any stretch of the imagination. I pictured a dress with a stain outlined or faded lightly that was now maybe a light shade of orange splashed along the front. Instead I was presented with a dress that was free from color fading which can be experienced in pretreatment and a dress that has no resemblance of it’s former stained glory. No faded outlines of a stain, no remnants at all of a stain, I was ecstatic. My daughter was excited, to see her dress stain free and I was the laundry hero. If only she knew, without the help of Clorox2 and cold water I would have never been able to save the dress from her supping a fruit pop. What are your laundry products for fighting monster stains? Do you trust products like Clorox2? Do you use natural remedies like lemon juice or seltzer?
DISCLAIMER:Â THIS IS A SPONSORED POST ON BEHALF OF CLOROX2, Â I WAS COMPENSATED FOR MY TIME BY POSTING THIS INFORMATION AND IN NO WAY WERE MY PERSONAL VIEWS COMPROMISED OR ALTERED.
Sweating profusely and panting I watched the closed captioning for the evening news on Fox while riding the bike at the gym. Wholeheartedly giggling at the headline, “Stay at home mom wars.” You have to be kidding me? Now the media and political genre has picked up on the stay at home plight to discredit these women. Here I thought this was only reserved for those bitches who own blogs, yet work outside of the home and have yet been afforded the opportunity to be an in home caregiver for their own spawn.
I watched as the news was delivered, the debates about a certain journalist vomiting of her mouth about how a political game players wife should not be any authority of business decisions and current economic policy because she has never worked a day in her life. Further I giggled that these deplorably, over-educated, imbeciles rattled and spouted off about scenarios they themselves have yet to encounter in their lifetime. Highly entertaining news television for my evening workout as I peddled even more fervently to their idiocy. Women who have not struggled financially, personally in the job and role of motherhood, and who never stayed home a day in their life with their children without “hired help.”
My eldest son was the ripe age of seven weeks when I enrolled him into a child care facility while I returned to work. My first week was heart wrenching as I cried each morning as I left him in the care of another woman. Only two and a half years later was I able to have the opportunity to stay at home with him, and soon after,conceive and birth my twins, care for them, see them reach the age of two before again returning to the workforce. My return was not one that was taken lightly and I still struggle.
Viewing myself more now as a provider and not a care giver I am not always feeling the job of mom. The struggling feeling that you are more of the hired help, yielding income to support your family; weekends, week night evenings, and just about any spare time is filled with the maintenance of keeping up a home as well as trying to ensure some form of maternal parenting is provided to our children as a strong foundation into their upbringing. It’s lifestyles like this that have encouraged many stay at home parents to pursue an education from one of the many online accredited colleges. no way am I discrediting my husband for his strong paternal role with our children which is monumental where most households experience the opposite, dad at work and mom at home with the kids. He is a phenomenal father, patient, kind, and a strong force for our sons and our daughter. Something I did not have in my home, and am ever pleased that they have such a loving man in their life.
Being a mom is not easy because we are so universal in our children’s foundation. We are initially the delivery vehicle for birth, to be brought into this world, a food source with the milk of our breasts, we provide comfort, security, love to our crying babes with our soothing delicate voices, our touch, arms to bear, hug, and embrace them. We also make sure to promote our children’s independence, despite our innate sense to always protect our children from harm, we push for them to learn on their own in spite of the struggles we know they will face. A mother should be loving and assertive as to stand her ground on what is right so as to encourage just actions and a moral compass for the future of these young individuals.
Motherhood aside, a “mom” is also a wife, lover, friend, co-worker, employee, woman, girl, child, daughter, sister. So we must learn to balance the motherhood role in life in addition to those roles we have taken on or assumed. I struggle on being a mom, wife, friend, lover, and woman. Not knowing when I can “treat” myself to those moments that were predefined in my life prior to the conception of my children. When can I revisit being a woman. A wife. A lover. If you scoff at this notion, clearly you are unaware of the actions of lumping a husband into the children pool, often emasculating him and issuing forms of discipline and condescension that we inflict because we are so often in “mommy mode.” We forget to be a lover, and embrace our femininity. By doing so does not make us selfish but well rounded, healthy, and aware of who we are and not losing our sense of self.
No matter if the job of mom is staying at home or working outside of the home, we are a mother nonetheless. We just, however, juggle the various roles that accompany our number one job which is being a mom. Loving those unconditionally that we bore of our own flesh and blood, safeguarding in their present and future, and yet pedagogical to foster learnings.
What do you struggle with in the job of mom? Do you sometimes feel a disconnect because you work outside the home? Do you feel a disconnect or lack of appreciation for being a stay at home mom?
Laundry in my household is the bane of my existence. The. Bane. I loathe nothing more than to labor tirelessly in front of a washer and dryer, laundering clothes. But you can make the best of your laundry triumphs and struggles with Clorox2. Currently Clorox2 is holding a contest where you can share your best story that you and your family have shared. Anything from the worst grass stain from soccer, a dirty mud stain, a finicky blueberry stain for those fruit snackers in your family, or even an asphalt stain like we had in our household.
My son treats his clothing like a giant napkin. We have tried to “train” him to use napkins, but somehow everything ends up on his shoulder sleeves or his pants in the thigh area. Coupled with the fact that on this day we had to go to the store and I noticed his shoes were untied. Rather than bending down to tie them, he sat his duff right on the asphalt in the parking lot of the store, resulting in a nasty black stain.
I knew this stain could not be handled with just my regular laundry detergent and so I applied some Clorox2 to his khaki’s to get those stains out and have his pants back to their standard glory to wear once again without shame. Clorox2 has a family line of different products to meet all your laundry and stain fighting needs. Not just the liquid, but spray stain fighters, gel packs and more.
Be sure to share your monster of a stain story and experience for a chance to enter to win play equipment for your backyard, athletic equipment for your child’s school, plus a one year supply of Clorox2 stain-fighting products so you can continue to fight the good fight against those monstrous stains! Contest ends April 20th, 2012, so head there now.
DISCLAIMER:Â THIS IS A SPONSORED POST ON BEHALF OF CLOROX2, Â I WAS COMPENSATED FOR MY TIME BY POSTING THIS INFORMATION AND IN NO WAY WERE MY PERSONAL VIEWS COMPROMISED OR ALTERED.
Ladies, admit it, when you saw the infomercial you giggled and laughed but then thought…damn those might be awesome. I know I did. I wanted to know what exactly are these pajama jeans. Like the Snuggie, I wondered how I got roped into such pure awesomeness. Laugh it up all you want about pajama jeans but I think they are great.
I was the ultimate skeptic for these, I thought, “Oh wow, these are just a pair of “Mom Jeans” that they are trying to market as stylish.” That is until I received my pair and again was skeptical but liked the fabric. A cotton blend that truly looks like denim except with the soft, fleecy, cotton insides like pajama’s. Â Hence the coining of pajama jeans.
When I received my pair I told all the ladies I work with about them and they had a hard time believing they were the infamous pajama jeans that I was wearing. With the smooth front and stylish back side with fashion stitching and rivets to mimic real jeans. They come to a boot cut bottom which looks great with any pair of shoes, but I definitely like wearing boots considering we are into fall. The waist is not an elastic waist which means there is no bunching, a smooth looking tummy and the small pockets Â on the back help accentuate your assets. But not only do they look good they feel good, they are warmer than your standard jeans and they move with you like your favorite pair of pajamas. Hey you can laugh it up, but my pajama jeans are my casual staple on the weekends and you can add them to your wardrobe as well for only $39.95 you can order them online and at specialty retailers and they come in an assortment of sizes to fit anyone. Buy a pair for the woman in your life this holiday season as a stocking stuffer or a wardrobe staple to enjoy as well.
â€œDisclosure:Â I was provided with a pair of Pajama Jeans at no cost in order to test the productsâ€™ abilities and give my own personal opinions on it. The opinions I have given are mine and may differ from others but were not influenced by the company or the free product provided.â€