Sunday, September 16, 2007

Fun With Noodles

You have to know me to understand my phobia. I have a phobia of getting dirt and such on my hands and I have a general phobia of messes. So serving spaghetti with sauce to my kids was always a no no. However, Sevi has taught me to let loose.

Tonight we had spaghetti.



Sadly, Julia is just like me. I passed my phobias off to her. Her noodles did not have any sauce on them. I obviously did not pass on my Italian Genes to her. LOL



Sevi on the other hand is teaching me to make messes. To have fun and enjoy life now. Worry about the clean up later. She likes sauce on hers. She also shared my artichoke with me. Or I should say, she shared HER artichoke with ME. LOL

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

~ Sept. 11th, 2001 ~



I will never forget that day. I will never forget all the people who died that day. They will forever be in my thoughts.

What were you doing on 9/11?

I was getting ready to go to school (I was going to college). I was on my computer talking to my GF in Israel. She was from NY. When I told her about the first plane, we thought it was a fluke. When I told her about the second plane, she was quickly on the phone trying to reach her parents in NY.

On my way to school, the news announced the plane that crashed at the Pentagon. Steve (who was my live in boyfriend at the time) was on a plane at that exact moment. He traveled a lot. By now I was at school and I knew when he was suppose to have land, so I called his cell. No answer. I left a crying message about planes crashing. My teachers knew he was on a plane and said I could leave my cell phone on. 2 hours later he called me asking me what the heck was going on. I was crying so hard because I was so happy to hear his voice, he couldn't understand a word I was saying. I then heard over his cell phone, the pilot coming on and explaining what happened. Apparently he was in the air when everything happened. The pilots came on the intercom and said due to a National Crisis, they were instructed to turn around and head back to DFW Airport. Once they landed, they were allowed to use their phones, but the passengers still did not know what was going on. That is when he called me and I heard the pilot start to explain. They made them sit for 2 hours out on the tarmac while they searched the plane and checked all the passengers to make sure there were no terrorists aboard. DFW is one of the largest airports in the US, so it was thought that it might be a target.

I was never so happier to see him when we both finally made it home. He proposed two months later. LOL He swears it had nothing to do with 9/11, but I do know it made his decision easier.

Thursday, September 6, 2007

My floor is crunchy.

Eliska Counce of McKinney: Mommy Guilt

If your floor is crunchy and you yell sometimes - you're not alone

02:45 PM CDT on Sunday, September 2, 2007

Pssst. I'm going to share my secret with you. A secret of dark shame.

The floor of my home is crunchy.

As a mother of three children ages 4, 2 and 3 months, I assure you: my floor is actually crunchy. Five years ago, had you suggested to me I would be shuffling through Cheerios and Goldfish and peeling my elbows off the grape-jelly and apple-juice epoxy on my dining room table, I would have scoffed. I was a much better mother, as they say, before I had children.

It's the secret that dare not say its name: Mommy Guilt. As a licensed professional counselor specializing in wives and mommies, I've heard hundreds of women confess this to me, eyes cast to the floor: I'm a terrible mother, and it's so easy for everyone else.

These women are working both in and out of the home, but we all share the same terrifying feeling that we will be found out. We yell! We (gasp!) microwave bottles! We feed our children Cocoa Puffs, and they've refused to eat a vegetable since we spooned them into them at age six months! We've used a combination of a towel, duct tape and a maxipad swaddled on our toddler because we forgot to buy diapers! The horror! The horror!

I'm here to tell you: I'm not alone, and neither are you. The mother you see every morning at school drop-off whose children are in matching, crisply ironed Ralph Lauren shirts, the mother who is in heels and makeup at 6:30 a.m., the mother who somehow shows up to every freakin' PTA meeting with a smile on her face and a homemade brownie platter in her hand – all these women share the Dark Secret.
We're wearing maternity underwear, and our youngest is 6.

All kidding aside, it has been amazing to hear my clients struggling with depression and despair over the gap between what they think other mothers pull off effortlessly and what happens in their own homes.

If she didn't have money to buy athletic supplies for her son, said one client through her tears, she would be depriving her child of enrichment, exercise and all the opportunities she thinks every other child has. Another is convinced she is the only mother who raises her voice to her children.

Yet another is certain she's a horrible parent because she dreads dealing with her mercurial toddler. And they have no idea that mother after mother who sits on my office couch claims that all other women are great parents, while they are not. They would not dare to share with these other mommies what they see as their shortcomings.

Stop the mommy guilt.

Not everyone will agree with your parenting. Let your inner voice guide you. Revisit your values and priorities. Allow for imperfections.

If you're worried about your quality of parenting, I've discovered, chances are you're doing fine.

Most important, research shows that women who report the most happiness have a solid network of other females. When you're losing it, hearing another mom admit to the same feelings is so powerful. When my friend with two small children told me her cleanliness goal really only entailed raking a path clear enough the toys that EMT workers could make it to her if she ended up running amok and breaking a limb, I felt so much better. "Lousy" mothers – unite!

Choose your battles. Apologize when you make mistakes. And should you find that stress is overwhelming, get support through your network or friends...or access a professional counselor like me who can help you take care of you so you can take better care of them.

Throw off your shackles, Mom. Know that whether they admit it or not, every mom is imperfect just like you and me. Say it loud: My floor is crunchy, my elbows are sticky and I'm proud!

Eliska Counce lives in McKinney and is the mother of three. She is the clinical director of counseling services for The Samaritan Inn and the founder and director of Transforming Tomorrows Counseling Center in McKinney. Her e-mail address is eliskacounce@mckinneycounseling.com

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

New Header

Check out my gorgeous new header. My dear friend with amazing talent made it for me. Tiburon rocks. She is my almighty master. I live to serve you. Thank you so much! I love love love it. Plus I couldn't think of anyone else I would want to have a broken foot with. Love you hun!!

Be sure to keep watching it as it changes. Lots of great photos and sayings. You don't want to miss a thing. LOL

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

First Day Of School

Juls did great. She was so excited.





And I have to post this. This was here two years ago on her first day of pre-school.



Sevi had a harder time surprisingly. She cried for a few minutes till I snuck off. Then her teacher said she whined off and on all day for Daddy.





And I am so upset. I thought about taking my camera when I went to pick them up but decided not to. Man, bad choice. When I got there, Sevi was sound asleep on her nap mat........in the hallway. Everyone was just walking around her. The teacher heard me say "Oh my gosh" and she quickly came over to explain. I had to let her know I was not upset with her, I was upset I didn't have my camera. I knew they must have had a good reason for it. Apparently she was refusing to nap and keeping all the other kids up by screaming. So they put her in the hall where she eventually fell fast asleep. LOL The director of the school (LOVE her) sat out there with her.

OK, so I was able to take a photo with my camera but I had never gotten a photo off it. I finally figured it out. Here she is sleeping in the hall...

Steve Tries. He really does.

I love my husband. He tries. He really does. He is such an awsome husband. But he is clueless right now. He knows something is wrong, but no idea what. So in an effort to cheer me up, he went shopping and bought me a



Yep, a Dyson DC14 Drive. A cleaning appliance. HA! Guess he thought this might cheer me up. Make me happy again. Bless him for trying. I do love it, don't get me wrong. I have been wanting one. But it just isn't quiet what I need right now. But I love him for trying. He is the best.

Monday, September 3, 2007

Bentos and Teachers

We met the teachers tonight. Julia's teacher seems cool. I am a little worried about Sevina's teacher. We'll see. Sevi is a very good judge of character. Uncanily so. So when I asked her to take a photo with Miss Julie and she didn't want to, I was concerned. Sevi will jump into almost anyone's arms. If she doesnt, I know something is not right. But who knows. Tomorrow will tell.



I only got to spend a little time with Julia's teacher. I had to leave Juls and Steve there to take Sevi to her room. I loved the way her room was decorated though. And she seemed to have it all together and organized. I was very impressed by her.



I can't wait to see how their first day goes tomorrow.

And to get to the Bentos. I have been sucked in to this new craze in an effort to get Julia to eat more/better. And of course, if I do Julia's, I have to do Sevi's as well. So here is their Bentos. This was my first attempt at it.

Here is Sevi's for tomorrow.
Ham and cheese sandwich in the shape of Bears (her fav animal right now).
Cantaloupe in the shape of Tulips
Grapes
Goldfish
Cookies (100 calorie pack)


And Julia's
Ham and Cheese Sandwich in the shape of Giraffes (her fav animal)
Cantaloupe in the shape of Tulips
Goldfish
Grapes
A strawberry because she loves them (and Sevi does not)
Cookies (100 calorie pack)


Now I really must go to bed. I have a long day tomorrow. Did I mention our fridge went out and we just went to the store yesterday and bought over $250 worth of groceries and DH is going out of town. So I have to figure it out. Yeah, I need to go to bed.

Saturday, September 1, 2007

I am Invisible

Great read......

I’m invisible

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?"

I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?"

I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa *** laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going ... she's going ... she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean.

My unwashed hair was pulled up in a clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this."

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."

In the days ahead I would read - no, devoured - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:

(1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.

(2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.

(3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.

(4) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, Because God sees." I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

God Bless You as you build your Cathedrals!

Dads and Daughters

You know that saying..."She has you wrapped around her finger."? That saying has never been more true then for my husband and our 4 year old daughter.

She has been potty trained for over 2 years now. When Steve is not home, she goes to the bathroom just fine. Doesn't need me for anything. However, when Steve is home, this is the conversation heard on a regular basis...

Julia is sitting on the potty
"Daaaddddyyyyy"
"What Julia?"
"I went poopoo Daddy."
"That's great Julia."
"I need your help Daddy."
"What do you need my help with Julia?"
"I need you to wipe my butt."
"Julia, you can wipe your own bottom."
"No Daddy, I need your help."

So what does my big burly husband do...he gets up and goes and wipes her butt. The very bottom that she wipes EVERY time when he is not home. She has him wrapped around her finger. He is in so much trouble with 3 daughters. Just imagine, if they can get him to wipe their bottoms at 4, what will they get him to do as teenagers?