Yes... I am a stay at home mom, and I STILL matter

Today I had someone ask me if Jacob is going to be in kindergarten next year, and after I said yes she asked with a hint malice," Well, what are you going to do with yourself then?"

You see, I am a stay at home mom. Not because I believe I am better than anyone else, or find that though we have sacrificed greatly for me to stay at home with our babies that my sacrifices are greater than those of anyone else. I simply did what I thought was best for MY kids.

So many things ran through my mind in a matter of seconds. I want to snap back that I would probably CONTINUE to do the thousands of things I do every day, you know like laundry, cooking and general cleaning up for 4 other people. I would continue with the tedium of clipping coupons to scrimp since we are on one income, shopping for the best deals and sales to stretch our income, agonizing over bills and sticking to a budget to buy those groceries, spend bits and pieces of time with my kids, fretting over my jewelry business and struggling to make time for it... day dreaming about creating something with my hands like painting or drawing.

On top of all of those things struggling to get out of bed in the morning because of unbreakable cycle of insomnia... which makes my debilitating fibromyalgia pain and chronic fatigue syndrome much worse. Developing a new heart problem which contributes to the fatigue. Grappling with system crippling allergies that keep me locked inside on the most beautiful of days, and knowing that because of all of these illnesses that I can no longer work and contribute to supporting my family causing depression and anxiety. Knowing that if a dear friend of mine with most of the same illness as me (only worse) is having a hard time getting disability so my chances are very slim... hating that I once was a nurse but can no longer do the job I loved even if I really wanted to and that this was NOT how I planned the last half of my life going...

In mere moments I was knocked down and belittled, angry and confused as to why this person that I haven't seen in almost 6 months would want to verbally snipe me... if only she knew, CARED to retain or bothered to read my status updates, (though I guess honestly despite all this I try not complain on Facebook much because who wants to read that?).

I have been working in some capacity since I was 10 (family business, paper routes, ice cream stands, groceries stores all before I was 18), I have paid my dues as a productive member of society until 14 years ago when I became a stay at home mom. I don't deserve the implications that I sit on my ass all day eating fritos and watching soap operas.

I wanted to respond in kind, I wanted to hurt her back but as unhappy as I felt at that moment and have been feeling for over a year I realized she was probably so much more unhappy than me for wanting to make me feel less than for staying home with my kids at first by choice... and then later out of necessity for health reasons.

I did not glean an ounce of joy from realizing that she was more than likely jealous of the lifestyle she THOUGHT I was living. It didn't make me feel superior that she was most likely very unhappy.

I don't need to match someone else's guidelines or validate my choices... and I certainly do not matter less because I do not or can not hold a job outside of the home. Despite all my unhappiness and longings I still would have left a very lucrative job as a licensed practical nurse in California  14 years ago to move back to John's hometown in Iowa to stay at home to raise Anna myself. I matter, I have and will continue to make a difference if only for my family.

In those moments that probably only took up 30 seconds I replied with a slight smile, in a soft voice, "Yeah, who knows." I let it go.

Long story short  (TL;DR) , not every circumstance is an opportunity to level the playing field. Sometimes we need to show a little kindness and walk in someone else's shoes. And sometimes the kindest thing we can do is keep our mouths shut. I really wish for a time when women lift and support one another instead of "sweeping the legs" out from under them Karate Kid style, for very personal choices and very valid reasons that are diminished to presumptions. I hope we can be kinder to each other as humans as a whole because we really never know what is going on behind closed doors and closed hearts.

A little bit of this...

And a little bit of that. That is what 2013 is bringing hopefully!

Though I am not sure if putting my jewelry and teacup candles in the local hospital gift shop is going to work out, I do have a couple of deals in the works.

My best friend has a beautiful blog and I came up with the idea of making pendants/necklaces for it as I fashioned a heart shaped pendant for her Christmas last month. I purchased a professional jewelry tumbler to add a super glossy and professional  finish to the pieces. I think they came out so pretty!

I am pretty proud of myself for not giving up on making precious metal clay jewelry after almost 2 weeks of trying to fill an order and having the process fail at every step, every turn to the tune of 12-14 pieces made and only 4 actually surviving the process. I learned a lot about myself in the process, mostly that I am willing to do what it takes to get it right. I really wanted to give up and tell the customer that I couldn't do it, but I didn't... I pushed through the frustrations and out right disappointment.

I have another amazing friend who I approached about a collaborative project for his book You Know What To Do ©, where I want to make really cool unisex dog tag style pendants  with his logo and his trade mark YKWTD © on them. He loves my idea and I will be moving forward with that ASAP. 

Right now I am working on making images in Photoshop of the stamps I want made to make the Bliss and YKWTD pendants, as well as a cute little robot my daughter drew that she named Bowbot I want to make pendants and earrings out of.

My best friend Monique bought me a light box and lights to take better photos of my jewelry, I am super excited to break those out soon. That will make taking pics less of a back breaking experience for me, It's going to be so much easier not to have to rush because the sun is going down or it's getting cloudy!

I am still taking pieces here and there to The Painted Rooster here in town, I do have a few pieces I need to work on for them as well, including a free form wire necklace that mimics a cherry blossom branch with a delicate little bird dangling from it. Those ladies always keep me guessing when I bring in new pieces, I love that! I'm never quite sure which pieces they will go gaga for!

So despite having the worst flu I have ever had in my life this week- and being the sickest I have been in years, things are looking up. I am working hard at making things happen, and will get back to diving in after this flu says adios.

I am looking ahead, looking forward... I am trying to look at what is on the horizon and stop worrying about yesterday. I cannot change any of that and am learning that I might not be able to change those things in the future either based on my  track record in those areas, so I am still mulling over those things but only in the context of whether it is worth my time.

I believe you can love people and move on. NOW. FINALLY I am seeing this. I can feel love for someone and keep moving forward and hope that our paths will cross again in a better place in the future. No hostility, no resentments.

I am almost somewhat positive. *wink* 

TYSVM, miss snarky pants.

So, as you saw from my previous post I bought me some al-kee-hawl. I like to have the occasional drink but I'm no connoisseur, and though I hate to admit it... I have a fruit fly problem. Yes, the vurry vurrrrry fine 6 dollah wine I bought was actually for the pests in my house.

I'm very hospitable, what can I tell you.

BUT I digress.

Six dollar wine. Right. I ran into the store to get a few things like fruit (no, not for the fruit flies... I have to draw the line somewhere), milk, stuff to make homemade cinny rolls, and yup, you guessed it 6 dollah muscato. I tried to pick something that both the fruit flies and I would like.



I head up to the register and totally like this girl? She was like totally bumming? and was like devastated that I actually would ask her to work? Totally. Like. Oh. Mah. Gah.

"Do you need my ID?" I asked politely, despite the fact that Little Missy Poopy Pants was put out. She curled her upper lip slightly while flaring one nostril, while giving me the once over,"Um. No. I don't think so."

"Actually most places want to swipe your ID when you buy alcohol."

"Well, we are supposed to but you're obviously old enough to buy it."

"Yessss, " I say coolly while pointing to the extinguished distinguished looking racing stripes I have going on at my temples, "Yes, I know."

"What, are you like in your 30's?"

"Yes. 37." Almost 38, I smiled as I thought about how 20 years will fly by in a blink. One day she will be me and she doesn't even know it. I kept that little tidbit to myself though. Though she may have tried to ruin a moment in my life, I chose to let her remain in Neverland for her moment. One day she will be in my shoes, and one day some cheerleader turned cashier will wait on her and remind her how old she looks. And she will probably need that wine as much as I did right then. :)

And maybe on that day, she will return the favor- pay it forward if you will- and give that cashier a little grace because little cheerleader doesn't know any better.

Now 'scuse me... The fruit flies and I need a refill. :)

I've got a dirty little secret, and my dilemma

OK, it's not dirty, but it's not what you would expect from a mommy blogger. Bear with me, folks.

About 4 days ago, my younger brother called me with an idea. Since he and I are flying out to see our sister in less than a month and he will be meeting Marci face to face for the first time, Ben thought that to commemorate the moment, we could all get a tattoo. Marci already has 2, and Ben has at least 5 I think... but me? None. That's not to say that I don't have markings. I have plenty of marks on me but none of them are pretty.

My husband became angry very quickly, he is against tattoos, you see. He thought it was very inappropriate for my younger brother to suggest something like this, and he was angry that I would even tell Ben that I would consider it- despite knowing that he doesn't like them. Later he asked me what kind of example would I be setting for our children, which I really took offense to.

This may sound a bit romantic but since watching Miami Ink (which I love), I have learned that usually there is a reason behind a tattoo. That's not to say that people don't get a tattoo on a whim, or because they saw something pretty they liked. Watching the show and being an artist, I began to appreciate the time, effort and artistic skill these guys put into their work. Almost every client they have wants a tattoo for a reason, usually as a memorial to a lost loved one or to signify an experience that they had that changed their life forever.

And... to be quite honest, I have always wanted a tattoo but I could never think of reason good enough to get one. Most importantly though, I didn't want my husband to think less of me.

Over it's [almost] 38 years, my body has endured marking. I have so many scars that I have stopped counting; each and every scar has a story and a distinct memory attached to it. Some of the memories are horrible, and others bearable.

The marks on my body are not who I am as a person. They don't define me, and they certainly are not boundary markers of who I am and who I could or couldn't be. They simply tell a story of life as it is , and has been up until today.

I have many, many cat scratch scars from the 8 cats that I have owned since being married 18 years ago. Whether kittens or adult cats, all of my cats have given me at least one battle scar.

I have a small scar between my eyebrows from the time I managed to pull the high jump bar down on myself in track. As I jumped over, my foot hooked itself on the bar and eventually the bar came crashing down on my brow, the sheer force of the bar colliding with my skull caused my skin to split open. This scar brings up old resentments because I had finally found something that I loved but my mother refused to let me continue because I had hurt myself. This from the person who hurt me and my body on an almost daily basis... it doesn't make sense to me.

When I feel the pebble that is embedded in my skin just beneath a layer of barely perceptible scar tissue, I don't think of fear so much as a choice to live no matter what the consequences would be. I can recall jumping from that car with clarity as if it had happened yesterday, and though I felt great fear, I decided that jumping from a speeding car would ultimately save my life. My thoughts weren't completely coherent, but when I look back on that day, and on the days that my elbow hurts- in a weird way I look back with an odd fondness. This little pebble of mine reminds me on the days when I don't want to get out of bed that I am a braver human being than I give myself credit for.

I have a mark on my neck... it's fading still but if you look you can see it. Four years ago I had a very large benign mass removed with the right side of my thyroid. I feared for my life while I waited for the results from the preliminary biopsy, and those 2 weeks before I was told I would still have to have surgery to remove the mass was agony. I imagined the worst, that I had cancer, and that I would not live to see my 2 year old Anna grown into adulthood.

In my sk*rt post I explained that you'd "see paths my body traveled- in joy and in pain, through the marks mapped out on my thighs and belly", and I talk about "the scar on my lower belly that bore three children- 2 in life and one that was not meant to be". I also have 3 new scars : One on my right bicep, and two on my right thigh and hip from having lumps removed from body last December.

These marks were not my choosing. I didn't want any of them, and yet here they are. I've had a life time of marks placed on my body, and my life - I hope- is far from over.

After thinking for a night on what image I would want on my body forever- despite knowing that my husband was still very angry about the whole thing- the lotus flower kept coming to my mind. I told my brother and sister about the symbolism behind it and they both love the idea:

In modern times the meaning of a lotus flower tattoo ties into it's religious symbolism and meaning. Most tattoo enthusiast feel that the a lotus tattoo represent life in general. As the lotus flower grows up from the mud into a object of great beauty people also grow and change into something more beautiful . So the symbol represents the struggle of life at its most basic form.

Lotus flower tattoos are also popular for people who have gone through a hard time and are now coming out of it. Like the flower they have been at the bottom in the muddy, yucky dirty bottom of the pond but have risen above this to display an object of beauty or a life of beauty as the case might be. Thus a lotus flower tattoo or blossom can also represent a hard time in life that has been overcome.

After my husband had a whole day away at work, he was able to calm down and see things from my perspective. I told him that even though he doesn't necessarily like tattoos, that I hoped that he could see that this is something that will make me happy and he could be OK with that.

As I showed him the designs I am looking at (and after I chided him for not trusting me earlier that I could pick something that was actually pretty), and after I explained the symbolism behind the lotus, he admitted that me having a tattoo cold be sexy and that he liked what it represents. ;)

Don't get me wrong, it's not set in stone yet- we are still mulling it over.

I would love, just for once, to have a mark put on my body by my own choice. I would love to be reminded daily of the spiritual pact I am making with my brother and sister, and the joy of meeting my sister again after 10 years. I would love to be able to look at this mark and remember all that I have overcome, and see the beautiful flower that I am today.

It's not that I need a tattoo to remind me of all those things, but it would make me very happy.

Pedophobia... it's everywhere

If you hail from the planet Earth, you have probably read at least a dozen news stories and/or blog posts about this story of a woman and her toddler being kicked off a plane for committing acts of atrocity such as actually being a child. Don't even get me started on the attendant implying that this woman actually sedate her child with Benadryl!

Until today I was just generally enraged by this, but after reading a post authored by a supposed "intellectual"- on a network that is supposed to be for enlightened women... well, I nearly threw a clot.

This person did agree that what happened in the particular instance was horrible and unwarranted. She did agree that she has suffered all sorts of indignities and shocking behavior from other people while traveling, but she said that this behavior is no more bearable when coming from a child.

Her suggestion- to paraphrase, if I may be so bold- is that we should treat the shared space of an airplane much as we would treat a library, concert hall, museum and that it is not acceptable to bring out our worst behaviors while on a plane.

Though I agree with most of her (obviously childless) opinion, my opinion differs because having been a child myself and having had 2 children I have noticed a thing or two about the idiosyncrasies of ankle biters. AND though I agree that we are all responsible as humans to be on our best behavior while out rubbing elbows with the other 6 gazillion inhabitants of this planet, I believe there are just some things you cannot completely control.

If you are a reasonable adult and parent, try as you might, there are just some situations in which a child might act out. Like in the instance of a plane suddenly rocketing forward and/or said plane entering g-force factor 2, or the noise of take off increasingly becoming a high pitched roar... well, I would expect that some children might babble out of nervousness, screech out of fear, cry because the ear pressure is too much to take.

I would imagine that the only possible way to keep your TODDLER from acting like a toddler in this situation is to use tactics like threatening your children with physical harm and establishing a cycle of abuse to ensure that your child is adequately afraid of you. Hello- I've been there , done that. If you've been reading my blog for awhile now you know my opinion on child abuse, since I am a survivor.

So what should we do with these troublesome children? Should we institutionalize them all so that the older, disapproving or childless can be more comfortable? Maybe we should put them all on an island- a Kid-centration camp, if you will.

Better yet, why don't we just sterilize the whole planet so we can be rid of the nuisance of loud chatter, fruit punch stains, and the occasional projection of body fluids.

This reminds me of when Anna was just 2 weeks old, and we were out to eat breakfast with my mother before she flew back to Maryland. Anna started to scream because she was having a horrible bout of colic. An older woman in her 60's turned to her friend and said loudly that her "grandchildren never acted that way, and we should be ashamed to have the whole restaurant disturbed... if we were decent people we would take our screaming child out so people could eat in peace". I can't tell you how angry this made me.

I'm no hypocrite. Sure, when I was younger and before I had children, these things annoyed me. Yes, having a child stare at you while you are trying to eat a quiet meal out is annoying. As is having the back of your seat kicked, or having your ears bleed from the sonic boom of a new born, or being stuck with a crying baby on an 8 hour flight.

Now that I am a mom, I know better. And I would expect that being humans, that me and my children have just as much right to eat at a nice restaurant- whether or not they behave like model citizens- and enjoy a meal. You can't kick me and my child out of a restaurant, a library, or off of a plane just because my child is still honing their skills in appropriate behavior.

Well, I suppose you can, as evidenced by the latest news... but it's not going o be without ME making some noise about it too.

Though I am a believer of following through with punishments, there are just some things that we need to accept as ADULTS and human beings. Though I believe that we SHOULD teach our children to be considerate of others and to respect the sanctity of places such as libraries and museums, I think that we need to accept that on some level kids will be kids.

Yes, we are responsible for them and we are supposed to teach them basics like being quiet so that everyone in ear shot can enjoy their meal- including the parents who rarely get to enjoy their own meals before they have gotten cold. I agree that we should teach our children to respect others, and to respect the quiet of a library, and that common courtesy is the way to go.

BUT! As long as this world continues to make children, we have to accept that parents cannot control everything that their children do. Babies cry, toddlers chatter and children fuss. THAT'S WHAT THEY DO.

Further more WE are the ADULTS. As adults we are responsible for exhibiting good behaviors as role models such as patience, kindness and self control, are we not?


Can't we all stop being self absorbed idiots and just get along?