Pictures

Most of you on Facebook may have noticed the retro thing going on with people’s profile pictures. Well considering how many dozens photo albums and picture boxes I have stocked full of millions of pictures, I thought it would be fun to pull out some old pictures, scan them and then tag all my old school friends. But instead I ended up spending an entire evening pouring through every single photo album and photo box I own.

I have pictures that of course begin with me as a baby, my childhood, teen years and into the years my husband and I were dating, our wedding and of course there were tons of both pregnancies and the kids all the way through now. My mind is kind of racing full of all the memories. It’s so weird to look back and see how much I’ve grown and changed. And even weirder to see how much the kids have grown and changed. I swear it was just yesterday that they were born. Then again I would’ve sworn that it was only yesterday that I got married or graduated high school…

There were so many pictures that just took me back. Friends and family that have long since passed away, friends that are still in my life today. So many people and so many memories.

Nothing puts your life into a sharper focus then looking back over your life in pictures. It reminds you of where you come from and who you are. It also reminded me of just how fast my babies are growing and that I should take time to slow down and smell the roses with them more often.

My dad took this picture when I was in elementary school. He told me to picture the woman I’d be when I was 30 and to say hi to that woman. And now here I am, 32, looking at that same picture, saying hi back to that girl I once was.

I never did scan any pictures and upload them to Facebook. Maybe tomorrow…

The Truth About Mommy

I will never be that mom who’s got it all together. I will never be the mom who remembers every little date, the gift for the teacher and the Tiger Scout meeting all on the same day. I just never will be.

I will always be the one whipping out the permission slip at the last possible moment where it is has sat crumpled and washed in the back pocket of my jeans. I am the mom who when asked for a tissue will always have one, it will just take 10 minutes of fishing through my purse to find it.

I can never go grocery shopping without forgetting at least one thing. In fact, I always count on having to go right back out again. Have I ever lied to my child that there were no more cookies, just cause I was saving the last one for myself? Sure, I’ll be honest. We’re all friends here, right?

But my kids are loved, clothed, and fed. It may have been hot dogs and macaroni & cheese, but they’re fed and they think I’m awesome…. Most of the time anyway.

It’s important to be honest about our imperfections when it comes to motherhood. Because we all have imperfections. There is no such thing as the perfect mother. All we can do is the best we can and laugh off the rest.

Any mom who appears to have it all together is just putting on a show. Somewhere beneath that cool mom exterior is a sink full of dirty dishes and a Calgon commercial waiting to happen. Just like the rest of us.

I think that’s why mom blogs and books like See Mom Run (edited by Beth Feldman, RoleMommy.com) appeal to me. I like to see the perfect mom come clean and show that she’s no better or worse than the rest of us.

So next time you’re not having one of you’re best mommy days, remember you’re not alone. And if you need reminding pick up See Mom Run and read Ciaran Blumenfeld’s “bad thai-ming” or “the secret” by Meredith Jacobs. Or any of the other hilarious essays in the book.

Just knowing that I’m not the only mom who actually has made a few mistakes on the way makes me sleep better at night. But just a little better, I mean I do have kids you know. So I don’t sleep that much…

This post was inspired by the svmoms book club book, see mom run, a collection of essays written by the world’s most harried moms and funniest women in the blogosphere.  I did receive a free copy of the book but have in no other way been compensated for this post.  If you want to borrow it you can, but please return it when you’re finished. If you want your own copy to keep join your own damn book club.

Surviving Adolescence with Stephen King

Growing up, most pre-teen girls turn to author Judy Blume. Her books on the trials & tribulations of adolescence is often attributed to the very survival of young adulthood. For me there was someone else though. Not to say Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing didn’t heavily impact my young life at the time, because it did. There was another author who planted the very seed of a dream and a passion that I would carry with me entire life. That author, Stephen King. The seed, writing.

Stephen King? You ask. Not your first thought for relatable reading material for a 12 year old girl. Strangely enough I did relate. OK, so maybe I never set my pre-teen cheerleading tormenters on fire at the school dance, but there were times it did cross my mind… The appeal that Stephen King always held for me, and still does, was not what he writes, but how he writes.

Reading a Stephen King novel is like being taken into a quiet room, and being whispered a story. No one around but you and the storyteller. The whole world outside disappears, and you are sucked into another world. So far in, that you worry about being able to get out.

Every difficult time I had as a teenager, or as an adult, I found myself turning to Stephen King. Not for advice on “how” to survive these struggles, but simply to just survive them.

Things like getting teased in the locker room for not yet wearing a bra, or the strange confusion and stress of my first period. My first heartbreak, my parents separation, alcoholism, or my big brother in Iraq during the Gulf War. Sometimes I got sick and tired of thinking about these things. I didn’t want to “talk” about them, I just wanted to run away from them. Stephen King was always on the shelf and with the simple opening of a book, I’d be a million miles away. Even as I got older.

When I suffered my first miscarriage, and I was home in bed for 2 days, I reread The Stand. When I finally was going to have a baby, and I neared the end of my pregnancy, I was SO scared. I’d never stayed in a hospital before and I had no idea what to expect from childbirth, except a lot of pain. So in my hospital bag, I packed the Shining. Strange choice, but hey, I was in labor for 30 hours, and did it WITHOUT an epidural. Stephen King to the rescue again (Please note that I was hooked up to an IV with pain medication, I’m not that crazy…).

Now as I begin my thirties (turned the big 30 in October), I find the same release from just the daily stuff that life throws at me. I also find myself reexamining that seed Stephen King planted so many years ago, the passion for writing. It’s something I’ve always done, and always wanted to do. I feel like maybe this is the year to make that change. To take it seriously. Maybe. All I know is that now when I finish a Stephen King book the same thought runs through my head, “Damn! How the hell does he do that?”

By the way, I can’t finish this post without mentioning my OTHER favorite author, Chuck Palahniuk. He’s a newer author(compared to Stephen King) and is the only author I can honestly say that I have read EVERYTHING this man has written. Including most essays and articles. He is another author who truly leaves me feeling totally inspired and in awe everytime I finish one of his books. A master storyteller.

One big difference between him & Stephen King, is that Chuck, I have actually had the great honor of meeting. While he was on tour for his book, Choke, I went to meet him and hear him speak in Oakland. What a wonderful guy. Sometimes when you idolize a favorite author, the real thing doesn’t quite live up to your imagination. Not Chuck. His wicked humor and easy style translates very well in reality. If you haven’t ever read something by Chuck, DO SO NOW! It’s a ride you’ll never forget.

Thanks to both of these incredible men for inspiring me everyday to live my own dreams. Also to all my writer friends out there, be proud of every little piece of immortality you put out there into the world.