Mama got her bloom back

Hellllloooo? 

Is anyone still out there? 

If not, I don't blame you. I've been gone for the last few months on a new-job-with-crazy-hours-imposed-blogging-hiatus. I've missed writing terribly. I'm still exhausted and can't really keep up, but it is my intention to mount a comeback. So, to the few friends who remain, thank you! I've missed you too! I've got so much to tell you! Grab a lime-infused beer and let's catch up!

Spring has finally sprung here in Michigan! It was one of the longest winters that I can remember, filled with every cold and flu germ in the book. After the snow finally melted, a month-long monsoon season set in. My Seasonal Affective Disorder had me by the short and curlies this year, (you're welcome for that visual, by the way). I was ready to toss myself into the lake where my backyard used to be, and never come up for air. But, one day it all finally stopped. The gray skies turned blue...the puddles dried up...and the sandals that I'd decided to start wearing two months ago, finally looked less out of place.  I had survived another winter. This one felt like a dangerously close call.

With the horrors of another midwestern frozen equinox in the books, I am once again intoxicated with the soft green grass and cool gentle breezes that May has mercifully blown in.

I am new again.

Four years ago in May, my husband and I bought our home. It has the most amazing tree in the front yard that boasts magnificent purple blooms for only short two weeks every spring. Simultaneously, there are two more trees in the backyard that explode in the prettiest pink flowers that Mother Nature has to offer. I'm 98% sure they played a big part in why I fell in love with this house. These trees put on their best show for us every May...a beautiful reminder of our treasured beginnings here.

My son will be two years old this week. He was due at the end of May, but decided to arrive three weeks early, on Mothers Day in 2011. After three long years of struggling to conceive, I'd had a difficult pregnancy, with weeks of bed rest, and I was going to be induced the following day, but my sweet, and ever-impulsive son had other plans.

At two in the morning, I got up to use the restroom, for the 900th time that night, and my water broke. I hadn't showered, shaved, eaten, or slept much...I'd had big plans for the morning of my induction. Peanut didn't care. It was showtime.

After seventeen hours of labor, followed by three more hours of pushing, Leo was finally here. He and I both had a rocky start, as he was taken to the NICU for several days, and I ended up in the hospital for another week and a half because of other complications. But, eventually, we were reunited, and were given the green light to go home. The trees has flowered and lost their blooms by the time that I was back at home. I was sad to have missed them, but spring's renewal had brought a different kind beauty and life to our home once again.

May is my favorite time of year. It's my unofficial official New Year. It's a clean slate. It's Mother Nature's apology for recent wind chill factors. It's a recommitment to taking long walks on Saturday mornings. It's a time for cleaning out closets, for blowing bubbles in the yard, for planting aromatic herbs that will waft through my kitchen window in the evening to reward me while the dishes are being done. It's the ultimate reason to sneak out of work, and to go to the park with my munchkin, and pick dandelions that we'll celebrate like a bouquet of roses. It's the perfect reminder to count all of my beautiful blessings.

I'm reemerging from winter's cocoon...from my new job blues...from the stifling season of sweater-weather. 

I am waxing nostalgic, and rejoicing in all of the kindness that May has shown me. 

Mama is baking a birthday cake for the cutest two-year old on the block. She is strapping on her neon running shoes again. She will get a pedicure after that. Mama will drink something fruity and she will stop staying at the office late. She will bask in the beauty of her yard, and her family, and her wonderful life that she was starting to take for granted somewhere in the middle of February. 

She IS BACK.

Mama found her bloom. Which was never really lost...only snow-covered and hibernating.

...and she encourages you do enjoy it, before it inevitably falls off when summer arrives, and she starts complaining about the mosquitos and stifling heat...

In the mean time...it's good to be back!

Someone Has Taken A Shine To Me!

Allow me to introduce you to Justin, aka Writing Pad Dad. He's clever, and very witty, and full of sensitive insights about the world of parenting that make him a unique and mature voice in the increasingly crowded, and often noisy blogosphere. He talks about marriage, and aging, and the battle of the bulge with honesty and humor. He doesn't shy away from difficult topics, and instead broaches them with both wisdom and style. He's among my very favorites on my ever-growing blog feed. I encourage you to spend some time visiting his site...I don't doubt that you'll fall head over heels for his generous warmth, his adorable family, and  his top-notch writing.

Justin has this cool new series called, "Blogs to Take a Shine to", where he features some of his favorite bloggy spots on the web. When he asked me to be featured, I was wildly flattered, and of course, I agreed. He sent some questions, I sent some answers, and today, they'll be reunited on his terrific site.

So go check it out & tell Justin that Jen sent ya. I'm waxing poetic about growing old, lessons learned and what I hope my parenting legacy might look like...

LINK:

BLOGS TO TAKE A SHINE TO:  LIFE ON THE SONNY SIDE

Wait...I'm not a dad...

Among the many zillions of "mom-centric" blogs that I have proudly joined the ranks of, there exists this other sect of weird writers that I enjoy...most of whom are clever, charming, insightful, and unapologetically awesome. 

Naturally, I'm referring to the dawning of the Dad Blog. Just when we thought that our exclusive girl's club was the only cool kid at the party, in struts these guys...with a beautiful little baby strapped to their manly chests...despite all the hair that's probably growing there right this minute.

They're bringing a bright new voice to the genre. Silly, sardonic, or heart-achingly touching...these fellas run the gamut. They're Dadding like professionals, and writing like rockstars. 

I've befriended a few of these gentlemen over the course of the last year. They fill my blog feed and inbox with pure gold. And while I'll always love my blogging sisters who reside in the land of "Mom"...I feel just as "at home" with these other gentle giants. The ones who don track pants in lieu of yoga-wear, and who don't shave their faces when we're busy not shaving our legs.

There is one group in particular who has rocked my unlaundered socks off. These guys are no joke. They take fatherhood very seriously...as all fathers should. The men behind the Dads Round Table (DadsRT) have created an online magazine and resource for dads...well, really parents in general. They write about an unbelievably broad spectrum of topics with wit and pizazz. They fully understand that parenting "experts" don't actually exist. They have carefully created this incredible space on the web where parents can gather, learn, and be heard. They're committed to putting quality content first. They are generally freaking fantastic.

They have asked me to join their ranks as a contributor. I am unabashedly flattered. 

Not only was I asked to become a contributor, I was asked to launch a brand new series featuring female parenting voices on their site...so cool.

This series will feature unique perspectives on raising tomorrow's dads. Um, have I mentioned that I couldn't be more excited to be kicking off this effort?! 

Please go check out my piece there...and if you like it, please let me and the guys who run the joint there know how downright brilliant you thought it was...

Here's the link -

Tending To My Tree: Raising Tomorrow's Dads

Once you get there, please stay tuned! I've rounded up some other talented female voices to join the discussion there as well in the weeks and months to come. 

I look forward to contributing to this outstanding online parenting resource in the future! We invite you to join us at the Round Table! And you don't even need to bring a dish to pass!

Threat Level: Zebra Print

Screw "Orange" and "Red"...I said that it's Threat Level: Zebra Print over here people!...Run for your lives!

This is almost as bad as Threat Level Snake Skin...not for the faint of heart!

Sure, it sounds pretty, but it's more like my house has come down with an exotic strain of some flesh-eating bacteria that I'm convinced will morph into some H1N1-Swine-Flu-hyrid by tomorrow afternoon. I can only hope that it works quickly and I get to go all Gwyneth Paltrow from the movie, Contagion sooner rather than later. 

Let me officially welcome you to what sounds like the TB ward of some run-down, early twentieth century, nearly abandoned, hospital in the woods...it already feels like a psych ward in this place some days, so when all the crazies get sick, the silly string really hits the fan. I bet you thought that I was going to say "sh*t" just then, didn't you?...But, you see, I can't...I can't even spell it because my tiny but brilliant patient loves it so very much that he's trying to adopt it as a real word of his very own. He's not even two yet. I can't ruin him already! I have to try to stop this now. So, stupid and highly unsatisfying phrases like "son of a sugarbush" will have to suffice. My deepest apologies for that. I'm getting way off track here. I blame the cold medicine...

...Anyway, back in the Land of Quarantine...We've been victims of an ever-present Plague that has kept at least one member of my family sick at all times since winter settled in here more than four months ago. I can no longer take it. I am about to become the Betsy freaking Ross of enormous white flags, folks! Maybe I'll find the strength to waive the giant thing on high after I mop up this lung that I just hacked up again. Watch your step.

The immune systems in our house deserve to be traded in. They have failed us entirely. If summer doesn't get it's ever-lovin' backside over here immediately, I'm going to lose my shish-ka-bob! (See how dumb that sounds?!) 

This winter has reminded me that children are nothing more than living, breathing germ-a-paloozas, wrapped in mucous & poo...and that good health is something that should never ever be taken for granted. And most importantly, that I will NEVER be "too busy" to get the flu shot again. I will make some time. Mark. My. Words.

If the residents of the alleged SONny Side ever get well again, there are a few things on my list that I'd really like to be able to do...

1. Finish a sentence that doesn't contain the words "after we get home from the doctor's office..."

2. Stop looking at shopping carts, restaurant highchairs, and public restrooms like they're hitmen intent on my family's demise.

3. Take the stairs again without fear that I will suffocate in a coughing fit halfway up.

4. Reclaim normal looking hands that haven't aged a million years from having been washed straight to the bone and sanitized Silkwood-style.

5. Eat foods that aren't a part of the B.R.A.T. diet.

6. Hopefully stop chastising my family for trying to hug me or touch me before I've had a chance to change out of my work clothes.

7. Keep plans that we make instead of constantly canceling at the last minute because there's barf or snot again.

8. GET NEW CARPET IN THE FAMILY ROOM. Don't go in there people. Just don't. If that floor could talk, it would probably just throw up again from the abominations that it has seen this winter. Thank GOD for hardwood in the rest of the house!

9. Stop wiping my bright red nose like a coked-out junkie in work meetings.

10. Move the mobile pharmacy off of my kitchen counter FINALLY!


If I could even accomplish even six of the ten, I'll call it winning and crack open some bubbly! In the mean time, in order to protect yourself if you see me around, I'd still pretend that you don't know me until at least mid-May...if we're not all on the mend by then, the Psych Ward joke won't be a joke anymore...


And if I'm posting less than usual, just remember that my blog is probably contagious too, so you probably shouldn't be hanging out with it anyway...

Vicks Hugs and Vitamin C Kisses,

Spoiler Alert: I'm an Awesome Mom

I have a great big secret to tell you...I have been crowned MOM OF THE YEAR! Isn't that exciting?! I sure think so!

I'll bet you're wondering, how on Earth does someone reach this supreme level of Momitude? 

How does one lucky lady earn this sort of glorious recognition for all of the glamor-free, sometimes menial, and very often thankless mom-related tasks that she does every...single...day?! I'm glad that you asked! The answer is simple. She's makes a junky tiara out of construction paper and an old headband and she decides for herself that SHE WINS!

http://www.themomoftheyear.net/2013/03/ten-reasons-that-i-should-totally-be-crowned-mom-of-the-year.html

Let me try to explain...

There's this super incredible lady named Meredith over at The Mom of the Year...she's the original. The rest of us are more like tasteful knock-offs at this point. (Think Versachy...not Versace). Anyway, she created this really cool Mom of the Year series...which is designed to give other moms the opportunity to shine a spotlight on all of the amazing accomplishments and well-intentioned, but monumental fails that join forces to make up a "Mom of the Year". Some days we'll win at the mothering game...many days we won't...but, as long as we're trying, we should definitely be considered award-winning-mom-material.

I hope that you'll visit my "Mom of the Year" post over at Meredith's place. If it's your first time there, be sure to take a look around. She's all sorts of hilarious and wonderful.

TEN REASONS THAT I SHOULD TOTALLY BE CROWNED MOM OF THE YEAR

One last question...do you think that Pinterest has any boards for DIY pageant sashes? Don't worry...you go read this. I'll check Pinterest out now and report back...See you in 9 hours or so...

A Motivational Speech to Myself

Hey Jackass...wait, that didn't feel right. 

Let me try again.

Dear Jackass...nope...

Dear Jen...that feels better...phew...

I see that you're having a tough couple of weeks. That sucks. Like, giant-Dyson-vacuum-at-the-bottom-of-a-drainpool-sucks.

Your life feels really busy right now.

Duh. It is.

You're not putting in enough hours at work or at home to feel like you're actually accomplishing anything. Your "To Do" lists NEVER get any shorter. You aren't writing as much as you want to. You definitely aren't showering as much as you should be. Your days are flying by at warp speed, and your tiny bean sprout of a toddler is becoming a full-fledged member of the human race. He's getting taller...and smarter...and funnier than you ever imagined. Each day he says something new and fantastic, or awful, or both. You're missing a lot of it while you're at work. It's okay that this makes you sad. That's normal. But, maybe spend a little less time wallowing in that, mmmkay? Your ugly-cry face is, well, ugly.

In the last few weeks, you have "lost" your driver's license, your work ID badge, and your car keys. Some of these items you have "lost" more than once. One of these you even paid to replace...despite the fact that it wasn't actually "lost"...only hiding in plain sight.

Newsflash: It's tough to see things clearly with your head that far up your ass. Slow down Flo Jo. It's not a race. If it were, you would have tripped and probably "lost" the baton a few laps ago. Take a deep breath...or a hundred.

You've actually done a few things right this month. You've had lunch with friends that you hadn't seen in way too long. You shaved your legs; got your hideous, shrub-like brows waxed, (by a professional, no less!); got your white trash ombre roots touched up; and cut three inches off your dirty hippie hair. It's still too long...but we'll take small victories where we can find 'em! You could actually probably pass for a fully functioning member of society now. Good for you, girl!

You're still eating everything in sight like you are Takeru Kobayashi at Coney Island. Knock that off. Knock it off right now. There is no prize money to win here. And, you may think that eating your feelings tastes like a taco supreme...but really it tastes more like remorse...which is probably high in cholesterol. Also, maybe work up a sweat now and again. And not just by walking up a few stairs or leaving the space heater on in your office for too long. You're never going to feel better about your situation if you don't actually start feeling better in general.

Image Courtesy of:

 http://youoffendmeyouoffendmyfamily.com/an-open-letter-to-the-exhot-dog-eating-champ-of-the-world-and-yes-he’s-japanese-too/kobayashi01/

Who knew sadness was so chock full of nitrates?!

You're a committed wife. You're a bad ass mom...when you're not messing it up by going to work all the time. The people that you do work with still want you to come back again the next day...so you must be doing something right while you're there too. Maybe it's not actually all as bad as you think.

Even if it is...it's going to be okay. You're going to be okay. Your life is full of people who love you, and need you, and want you to succeed...even when it seems unlikely.

Your kid does an actual "Happy Dance" when you walk through the door each day. Your return home makes him so happy that he literally breaks into spontaneous dance moves all over your living room and kitchen floor. (Further confirmation that he's totally his father's son in the rhythm department). He thinks that you're the bomb diggity.

You know why? Because you are.

So cut yourself some slack, Jackass. There are only a few more days in this God-Foresaken month! You can do this. 

You can do this with all sorts of annoying charisma and pizazz. You're not drowning. You're just busy.

This too shall pass.

So, hug on your family when you can steal a moment.

And while you're at it...steal more moments...in locked bathrooms, hot showers, and quiet hallway closets. And screw the rest of the noise.

Your life is great. Sometimes you just need you to remind you of that...

Yours Truly,

If I was your Mama...Volume 3

If I was your Mama…random unsolicited advice

from someone else’s opinionated mother

Volume 3: Speed Lectures...It's like Speed Dating...But even less fun

I’m having a crazy week…er, month…well, maybe longer…whatever...my life is a full-on sprint right now. There’s no time to take a breath, drink a Gatorade, or pull a hammy…there is only more running. And if you know me, you know I hate to run. We're not talking about actual running though...don't be silly...

I’m tired. My day job has been a whirlwind of misadventures that has some how culminated in a situation where I’m up for a promotion that I totally don’t have time for, but that I like to think I deserve. My son is turning two in May. He is all kinds of funny, and horrible, and wonderful. More than the other three though, he is exhausting.

Image Courtesy of: http://tdewalt.blogspot.com/2010/06/tired.html

I am definitely suffering through one of the worst bouts of Seasonal Affective Disorder that this Michigander has ever faced. The groundhog was obviously wrong this year, and he deserves to be punished for yet another botched prediction. Where’s a hungry wolverine or a mountain lion when you really need one? Probably sunning somewhere warmer…not that I blame them.

Sidebar:

You know how I know that I’m not the only local feeling loco about this crappy winter weather? It was 62 degrees on Saturday. There were still giant mounds of snow all over the place. People were outside in tank tops. I took my kid for TWO walks that day.  It was 19 degrees the following day. This place is a joke.

Wait…Where were we? Oh yeah, I’m still tired.

Anyway, this brings me to the real reason that I’m here. I’m due for my weekly “If I were your Mama…” segment. Two days late and at least a dollar short. Probably way more than that, truthfully.

What I’m trying to say is that I don’t have the time or energy for my usual full-blown sermon today. Instead, I’m speed-lecturing. I’ve got a lot of ground to cover. I’d better get to it…

1.) Sean and Catherine from The Bachelor: Slow your freaking roll, you silly lovebirds! I get that ABC is willing to pay for your dream wedding if they get to broadcast it for all the world to see, but you don’t actually have to get married in a few weeks...or even a few months. Here’s a novel idea, why not get to know each other without all the helicopters and elephant rides? Why not have a few big fights? Why not really check out the goods before you promise yourself to the other person until the end of time…or until ABC agrees to pick up the tab for divorce lawyers too? Marriage…children…it’s real and it’s hard. SLOW DOWN dummies! It’s not a race. That’s a different reality show.

2.) Taylor Swift: SHUSH! You’re a silly little girl. Who in their right mind would knowingly enter into a public battle of wits with the likes of Tina Fey and Amy Poehler? In case anyone may have missed it, following Fey’s hilarious joke during the Golden Globes alluding to Swift’s infamous serial-dater status, Swift has launched back a quote apparently from the lips of Katie Couric, that was something along the lines of, “There’s a special place in hell for women who don’t help other women.”  Just stop it. It was a jooooooke. Also, they sort of were trying to help you. Just in their own way. Maybe use this as a wake up call…it hurts when people use you for material to better their own careers…this should sound vaguely familiar to you. Also, for the bazillionth time, I’m pleading with you dear, to read this letter that I wrote you:

A LETTER TO TAYLOR

Please don’t throw it away with the thousands of other fan mail letters that you receive this week. Yep, I saw that news story too. I don’t miss a beat. And, obviously you can’t catch a break. Like I said, maybe just hush for a while.

3.) Kim Kardashian: Put on a maxi dress and chill a little bit with the wacko-wear. You’re going to look back at some of these photos one day in your version of “maternity fashion” and cringe so hard you won’t be able to see for a week. At least you won't have to look at you then. We sadly, aren't as lucky.

4.) Anna Duggar: So, you’re having a third baby now…we get it. You want to give crazy Michelle a run for her money in the over-worked vagina/childbirth-factory department. You need a new role model, honey. Michelle, you’re 46. You’re putting you, your potentially “20^th” offspring, and the rest of your family in a terrible spot if something were to happen to you because of another pregnancy. You really deserve a full-scale talking to, but I’m in a rush. So, fertile and less-fertile Duggar Women- KNOCK IT OFF. Give your lady-parts a well-deserved rest. Michelle, look at your enormous family, and feel fulfilled, for heaven’s sake. Anna…you’ve been warned.

5.) Miley Cyrus & Liam Hemsworth: I know you’re both probably all sorts of sad that you’ve just broken up. You’ll be fine. I want to give you both a virtual high five for breaking off your engagement. You’ve got lots of life to live, and even more hot celebrities to make out with before you settle down for real. Good for you.

6.) Hey Everybody Who is Talking About Dennis Rodman: Stop! This is exactly what he wants. No more attention for his stupid shenanigans.

7.) Justin Timberlake: You’re awesome. And crazy hot. I know you already know this. If I were your Mama, I’d tell you to leave that smokin’ hot wife of yours and maybe consider a few steamy moments with a cute mom blogger out there. Don’t worry folks…My husband would totally issue me a free pass if JT were take me up on this…

8.) Punxsutawney Phil: Start running. I’m comin’ for ya.

9.) Lucky Jerks Who Won the Powerball Jackpot...AFTER They Already Won the Lottery: You suck. Just thought you should know…

10.) Me: Get back on the Weight Watchers wagon, Tubby! Get back on before you break it and all the wheels pop off! You’re going to hate yourself when you have to put on a swimsuit again in a few months. Stock up on Kleenex for those cry-fests RIGHT NOW. You can do this. It’s called will power. Look it up. And put that cookie down!