Find your pink umbrella

Years into the mothering thing, something happens. You kind of lose yourself. You lose who you once were. That doesn't necessarily mean it's a bad thing. Sometimes you need to grow up and being responsible for little ones gives you direction. And sometimes you dive in so intensely that the world is wrapped up in feeding and clothing and taking care of little people that you forget to come up for air.

I'm mothering five sons. Sometimes, honestly I forget that I'm a girl. I really do. Cars, wrestling, bugs, dirt, soccer, muddy shoes, zombie invasions, skateboards, action movies, camouflage, tools, off-road excursions, aliens, dirty socks in balls under furniture, gigantic carnivorous appetites, baseball caps, Guitar Hero, pocket knives, toads found in the backyard. Not that girls can't be into any of the above, but they are the kinds of things that have become the norm.

And when you're a mom, it's pretty much a given that nothing is your own anymore, until the one day I discovered that some things can be. After three -- count them, THREE -- umbrellas had disappeared from my vehicle or the coat hook (all navy or dark colored), I scanned the rack at Walgreen's for a replacement. All they had were flowery and feminine ones. "Well, I can't get one of those," I thought to myself. "No one will be able to use it except for me."

That's when it happened. One of those "Ah-hah" moments that Oprah talks about. What's wrong with having something that is just for me? It had been a long time since such a thought entered my mind. Everything would still be ok in the world if I bought an umbrella that was hot pink and if no one else could use it except for me. I bought it. Sure enough, the boys were happy to get soaked if it meant not using a pink umbrella.

The pink umbrella was kind of a wake up for me. The guilt of getting something or doing something for myself lessened. Back when I was working full-time outside of the home, I had no trouble justifying going to get a massage or buying a new outfit to wear to the office. Now that I'm a working mom who happens to have my office in the corner of my dining room and who wears sweatpants more often than business suits, it just felt like I wasn't as deserving of such little extras as when I was the primary breadwinner. I got into the trap of thinking that I wasn't working as hard as other moms because I happen to have the luxury of working from home. And because I wasn't working full-time and bringing in a full-time income, I didn't feel I should splurge on things because there never seemed to be the spare cash to do so.

But when I put that pink umbrella in my hand, my attitude shifted. It's okay if I spend a morning and $25 on a pedicure. Why shouldn't it be? It's alright if I meet friends for lunch twice in one week. A lunch out isn't going to break the bank and I do enough cooking for others in the house - why shouldn't someone cook for me, too? If I see a cute top while running through Target to stock up on underwear and socks for the boys, why shouldn't I buy it?

My advice on Mother's Day is to find that pink umbrella in your life - something to remind you of who you are and that you need to be good to yourself. You're worth it!

Little life lessons

There probably isn't anything in this post you haven't heard before in one form or another. But sometimes even though you hear things, you don't really hear them. Sometimes you have to live them and experience them or see how someone else is affected before you really hear them and understand them. So, just a few little random lessons that I have picked up along the way.


You can't make other people do the right thing.
You can't make everyone happy, but you can make yourself miserable trying.
There's a consequence to everything you do, so choose wisely how you live your life.
Time waits for no one.
Make the most important people in your life the biggest priority.
You never know what a huge difference a few kind words can make.
The grass is greener where you water it.
Never hesitate to give a compliment.
Never turn down chocolate.
Sometimes the youngest people are the wisest.
Appreciate the little things - the meal you can enjoy, that you can take a walk, that you can bend and tie your shoes, that you can read, that you can hear, that you can see all the beautiful things in life.

It's not easy

If I had a nickel for every time someone told me how much easier boys are to raise than girls, I'd have a big ol' bag of change. I'm told often that I'm lucky to have all boys and how they are so easy compared to girls. Less worrying is what I'm told. Less stress they say. No drama. No hassles over clothes.

I beg to differ. Boys aren't easy or easier. They're different. There are different challenges. I have 5 boys. Some are easier than others in different areas. One gives me a hard time about doing homework. One never has to be told. One is really into clothes and very particular about what he wears. One could care less and hates to enter a store with me to pick something out. One gets an attitude quite often when he's told what to do. One never argues and simply says "Okay" to any request. One is really lazy about chores and always tries to get out of doing them. One simply knows what his are and does them without complaining. One irritates his brother every chance he gets. One is very tolerant of anything his brother throws at him. One likes things organized. One is a pack rat. They are simply different. Each one of them.

While there are challenges that parents of girls face, there are also challenges that parents of boys face. When I was a kid I remember that I always wanted to have girls. Boys simply seemed to trouble makers. It was rare for a girl to get in trouble at school. Most of the boys were reprimanded at some point and some on a regular basis. I didn't get boys.

I get them more now. They are very hands on. If they are bored, they're more likely to cause trouble. They're physical. Wrestling and doing things to show strength is normal. They're inquisitive. They don't display a lot of emotion. They just aren't wired the same as girls. But, boy there can be drama. As a mom of boys I have done lots and lots of lots of worrying. That's not limited to moms of daughters. And clothing can be a big source of tension -- one refuses to wear long sleeved shirts, one suddenly decides to ditch his whole wardrobe in favor of skinny jeans and then complains about his body image, one won't wear sweatpants, one won't wear shirts with collars, one has 15 pairs of pants in his drawer and claims that they are all either too small or too big, one will only wear boxer shorts, one only will wear ankle socks. Clothing is still a hassle with boys. Maybe not to the extent of most girls, but it's not a non-issue, that is for sure.

I may not have girls, but I was one once. Easy doesn't exist, whether you're talking about boys or girls.

Eight years

Wow. It's been eight years. Eight! Years! My youngest baby was born eight years ago and it doesn't seem possible. And at the same time it seems so long ago. Moms, you know what I mean, don't you?

I remember the big details - the date, the time you were born, the look of you as a baby. Other details have faded over the years - the specifics of labor, the name of the fill-in doctor who delivered you, the outfit you wore home from the hospital. I wish I could say I remember the way your tiny body felt in my arm, but it's been so long and all I know now is how heavy your head feels against my arm on the occasions that you scoot in that close, which have gotten fewer and farther between as the years go by.

I've watched you roll over and sit up and walk and talk and run and learn to read and ride a bike, knowing you were the last of my children and it was the last time I'd experience such things as mother. There are still things ahead.

I'm still waiting for you to loose your first tooth. I'm not all that eager. I remember worriedly asking the dentist when my oldest son was this age when his adult teeth would come in. He expressed concern and even mentioned pulling out baby teeth if they didn't come out on their own soon. This time I'm not rushing to the dentist. They'll come out when they're ready.

Happy birthday, you'll forever be my baby!

It's that time!

I'm a wee bit excited about something. Something that happens every year this time of year. Scan through the pictures below and see if you can figure out what it is!

Dear sons: Be sorry

Letter #19

Don't be afraid to say you're sorry. I know you don't hear that phrase a lot around our house. I don't say it very often. And your dad says it even less. I haven't been the best role model in that area. But, I know that when someone apologizes to me for something, it means the world to me. I know a lot of times I'll look back at a situation and see a need to apologize for something, but sometimes I put it off or I don't know how to say it and it goes unsaid. Or sometimes it does come out, but so much time has passed, it just doesn't have the same affect. Just like a thank you note you receive a couple days after giving a gift or doing something nice means a little more than one that comes months later. Whoever said "Better late than never" was likely a huge procrastinator.

Of all five of you, there's one who sees mistakes and immediately apologizes. Yes, sometimes it's to soften things a little in anticipation of a consequence and to elicit some sympathy, but it's usually more than that. It sounds sincere and makes me feel that you really regret something you've done wrong. For the other four of you - you know who you are - it's like pulling teeth to get those words to come out of your mouth, even if you know unequivocally that you were in the wrong.

It is important. Practice it. Learn to be apologetic. Learn to admit your mistakes and try to make them right.

Hearts at Home

A couple weeks ago, I drove down to Normal, Illinois to go to the Hearts at Home Conference with my younger sister. It was the second year that we attended together. I'm trying to look back at my notes and see what things I can apply to my life to make myself more of the mom I want to be. It all sounds great when you're in a seminar far from the kids and home responsibilities after eating a delicious made to order hotel breakfast that you didn't have to eat cold or cut up for a little one. But once you're back in the thick of it, it's hard to follow through.

I attended workshops on raising sons and how to relate to them, on getting yourself organized, on giving yourself permission to dream and on turning stress into an opportunity for connection in addition to listening to presentations by the conference founder and the keynote speaker, Candance Cameron Bure, who I also met at a book signing session. There were a couple more we were scheduled to go to, but by the afternoon of day two, we were both kind of exhausted and called it a day early. Getting away for a couple nights with my sisters (my other two sisters joined us on day two and three) was the best part, the rest was icing on the cake.

What did I take away from the conference overall? A few things:

1) That there's no such thing as a perfect mom and we need to embrace our imperfections.
2) That we need to stop being judgmental of other moms. We're all doing the best we can or doing what works best for our family situation.
3) Make sure you have people in your life that help to uplift you rather than pull you down.
4) That the biggest reason for clutter in the home is indecision - once in a while it may be the wrong one, but it's better to make a decision.
5) Be aware of those miracles in your lives.
6) Be more in tune to how members of your family react to certain situations and don't try to change or fix them, but learn to validate them and offer comfort.

The nicest part of this trip was just that I got to hang with other females. It's not easy living in a house with six men. It's hard to figure them out and understand where their coming from. And it's hard not to be driven crazy by trying to figure them out. It was great to have a chance to be with my sisters and eat and giggle and chat. And it was nice to be at the conference and be around 4,000+ other women. And then it was nice to go back home to my guys.