Fan Girl Friday!

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Happy Friday, peeps! Let me tell ya, I don’t know if I have ever felt so ready for the weekend. This week has been insane. Huff the Tot had the stomach bug and this momma’s been scrubbing poo off the carpet for several days. I’m SO ready for Mother’s Day so I can kick back and relax!

Do I note a look of panic in your eyes? Did you forget this weekend is Mother’s Day?! Don’t worry! I’ve got your Mother’s Day gift guide for every type of mom!

 

For the mom who exudes rainbows and sparkles and also likes to power walk at the mall, grab her a pair of these unicorn sneakers from Think Geek!

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What about a mythical creature-loving momma who wants to display the latest novel she’s reading? Get her these a-DORK-able unicorn bookends from ModCloth!

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Is your mom basically a super hero? Show her how powerful she is with this Wonder Woman Funko figurine!

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Did your mom (or wife) raise all boys and live to tell the tale? Snag her this hilarious (and totally true!) tee!

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Does your mom even lift, bro? Dazzle her with this “Strong is Beautiful” necklace!

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Want to keep it simple? Show your madre what you really think of her in the best way possible:

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Happy fangirling and happy Mother’s Day!

Her’s Day Thursday

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Today’s Her’s Day Thursday BAMF is not just one woman, but many: mothers everywhere. 

The stay-at-home mom who home-schools her kids and needs a break from being Mommy AND teacher. The working mom that drops her kids off at daycare and wishes she could stay home. The mom with little ones, bleary-eyed and covered in spit up. The mom with pre-teens and teens, navigating a world of hormones and eye-rolls. The mom helping her baby pack up his room for college and wondering what she’ll do with an empty nest. The mom who has now become Grandma and is helping her child walk through this wilderness we call motherhood. I salute you. Happy {early} Mother’s Day. 

 

Mommy Monday

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I don’t know about y’all, but most days I feel like I’m a complete failure. I’ll see other moms on Facebook, talking about how their kid achieved this or completed that, all while Super Momma was there to sew a dress, teach them Algebra, and bake cookies for their classmates in the shape of their favorite historical figure. I look at these women and I can’t help but think:

“That looks exhausting.”

and:

“Should I be doing more?”

But then I watch videos like this one from The Break Womb and realize I’m doing what I can and that is enough!

Ever been in situations like that? How do you deal?

Mommy Monday

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This weekend, Huff the Hubs and I were in Tulsa, OK making my seventh grade dream come true! You guys, I totally met the guys from Hanson:

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You can totally tell that he’s super excited about taking a picture with me.

For lunch on Saturday (in between Hanson events) we went to The Cheesecake Factory. We were sat in the most horrid of places–the half both/half table thing that makes you sit by people you don’t know. This makes my misophonic-heart very uneasy.

We were seated next to a table of four older woman (when I say “older” they were all 55+. Suffice to say I think they were all grandmas or soon-to-be grandmas). Because we were in the dreaded half-booth/half-table, I could hear their conversations.

A few tables down, there was a mother in a green shirt with a little boy that was a tad younger than Huff the Babe, along with two other women and another youngin’.

Every few minutes, Green Shirt Momma’s little boy would shriek. Loudly. Honestly, it didn’t bother me. Huff the Babe does that all the time and I know its not her trying to make me jump, its her saying, “Hey! Look what I can do! I can make a loud noise! Isn’t this AWESOME?!” Plus, I was just happy to have a meal with my husband, out in public, and not have to worry about my kid screaming.

The screaming, however, was not overlooked by everyone. People kept turning their heads to give the mother annoyed glances. The glances I could understand. What I could NOT understand were the remarks by the four old ladies sitting next to me:

“I wish I could give them a to-go bag so they could go.”

“That mother isn’t in control of her child.”

“You may have to pitch in for bail money because I’m gonna go slap that kid.”

“This is one of those moments when a muzzle like in Silence of the Lambs would come in handy.”

I could not believe what I was hearing. My hands were shaking and I felt myself resisting the urge to reach over and slap those women.

I looked down at the mother. She knew everyone was looking at her. She scrambled to find books, toys, spoons–anything to keep her child quiet so people wouldn’t look at her and judge her.

I watched as she took the baby to the bathroom, presumably to change his diaper, and saw that tears filled her eyes. I could feel myself in that situation. I too, know how it feels to try to hold it together while your child is freaking out in public. I know the feeling that everyone is looking at you and judging you, thinking that you’re a horrible mother. I’ve gotten the dirty looks and the seen people whispering behind their menus. I’ve fought back tears in a crowded restaurant.

In that moment, I wanted to scream at the women next to me. I wanted to reprimand them for their horrible, awful remarks. I wanted to flip their table over like Jesus did to the people in the temple and start whipping them.

But, I didn’t. I decided to do something a little bit more peaceful. And hopefully something that gave her a blessing and made her feel good about who she was as a mother.

I went to her waiter and asked, “Are you waiting on the woman in the green shirt with the little baby?”

He looked scared. I knew the Bitter Biddies next to me had probably already complained to him, and he probably thought I was next. “Yes…” he replied nervously.

“I want to pay for her meal,” I said.

Really?” the waiter said, surprised.

“Yes,” I told him. “And I want to write her a note on the receipt, so could you please make sure she gets it?”

I saw Green Shirt Mom return from the bathroom as I was taking my seat. She was a little pink-faced but seemed to be keeping it together. Her kid kept squealing–much to the annoyance of the Biddies–and I couldn’t have been happier.

When the waiter brought her check to me, I wrote a simple note: “I have a twenty-month-old. I know how difficult it can be to go out to eat with a little one in tow. You are doing a GREAT job! Happy belated Mother’s Day!”

I don’t know how she reacted to it. I hope she felt blessed. I hope she felt like she was not alone in her “mommy struggles”. I hope she realized that not all people are Judgy Judgersons and that there ARE people out there who understand what you’re going through.

Please don’t misread me, I’m not saying this to toot my own horn or fish for compliments. I’m sharing this story because I feel like we as women need to stop bashing one another and judging each others’ choices. We need to stand up for one another and be our biggest cheerleaders! We need to support those fellow moms out there who are trying to be the best they can be for their kids. Let’s show love and support, and, should the opportunity arise, free cheesecake. 🙂

Mommy Monday

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Yesterday was Mother’s Day. I had hoped I would end the day feeling like this:

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But the day ended like this:

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It had been a rough twenty-four hours. Huff the Babe had been running a high temp the day before and she wigged out in the middle of the night–crying, shivering, and acting like she was in pain. I felt like we should go to the ER, so we drove to the nearest one in a panic. After hours of holding HtB down for tests, vitals to be checked, and temperatures to be taken, she was finally discharged at 2:00 a.m.

We got home and I slept for about 3 hours, Huff the Hubs slept about 2 hours, and Huff the Babe didn’t sleep at all.

Needless to say, we were all exhausted. It was obvious that the Mother’s Day extravaganza would have to be put on hold. Normally, I would have been devastated. But, all I could think about was my kid. Was she safe? Did she feel better? Was she still running a temperature? Was she going to be okay?

And, in those moments I realized something: motherhood is not about hearing “Thank you” every time you do something. Its not about your kid or your husband bringing you breakfast in bed or freshly picked flowers. Its about putting others ahead of yourself. Its self-sacrifice, a heart of servant-hood, and a love so deep that it almost cannot be explained. Don’t get me wrong, the flowers and food are great, but they’re not everything.

Even though the day didn’t go as planned, I still think I had a great day. My kid was safe, my husband told me he appreciated me, and I got to see my family. I could’ve done without the frantic run to the hospital, the overwhelming feeling that came along with social obligations, and a screaming, cranky baby. BUT, that’s where life happens.

 

Her’s Day Thursday

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Today’s leading lady never invented anything. She didn’t win a Nobel Prize, cure a disease or because the first woman on the moon. Most of her accomplishments have been quiet, out of the public eye, and noticed by those who matter the most. Today’s Her’s Day Thursday champion is, my mom.

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Norma Denice Snow was born in Pauls Valley, OK on September 14, 1958 to Mark and Carma Snow. My grandfather has repeatedly told me that she “was the most beautiful baby anyone had ever seen”. PaPa Snow shines with pride when he talks about how the neighbors used to coo over my mom.

When my mom grew up and got married to a young, long-haired hippy named Mark, her life changed forever. She and my dad waited a while to have kids (they were only 18 when they got hitched) but soon, they had three daughters before they turned 30.

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My mom is amazing, y’all. With all three labor and deliveries, my mother refused an epidural. I’ve gone through labor, people, and I had an epidural. Let me tell ya, that was not an easy process, nor was it pain free. The fact that my mother did that THREE times with no meds means she is one bad mamma-jamma!

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She’s tough, but she’s also sweet. I can’t even begin to count the times that my mother went without so my sisters and I could have. She’s incredibly generous and hospitable. She loves to make others around her feel special and let them know that she is thinking about them. If she hears about a loved one who is sick or in the hospital, she immediately calls, texts, and visits. She’ll pack little bags of snacks, drinks, and games for a bed-laden friend and gladly use a gift card she received for her birthday to buy something for someone else because “they needed it more”.

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She’s incredibly crafty and has sewn countless outfits for my sisters and I, as well as crocheted an innumerable amount of scarves, headwraps, and hats for friends, family, and strangers! She never asks for thanks, she doesn’t expect accolades, and she is incredibly selfless. She’s pretty much a super hero.

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My mother is kind, funny (when she wants to be, lol), loving, caring, and absolutely beautiful, inside and out. She’s inspirational and encouraging. Any time I feel like I am failing as a mother, she’s right there next to me saying, “You’re doing a great job! You can do this.”

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She’s such an amazing woman, and I want the world to know.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. I love you!

Mommy Monday

As you may have noticed, I was MIA last week.

Huff the Babe was puking her poor little guts up early last week and then she decided to share her sickness with Mommy and Daddy. Needless to say Huff the Hubs and I were down for the count Wednesday and therefore did not fully enjoying a day full of pigging out and lounging in front of the TV.

But, we’re all well now and hopefully tummy bugs and all other sicknesses will stay far away until well after the holidays.

Being a mom has taught me many things: how to love, how to have more patience, and all that other sweet/mushy stuff. But something else that motherhood has taught me is that you start to give a lot less care about things you once held dear.

I never really was much of a “manicure” girl, but there for a hot minute I got really into nail art. Every few days I would try something new I found on Pinterest. And, not to brag, but I think I got pretty good:

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Now, however, if my nails ever get painted, they look good for about a day. And then, for the next month they look like this:

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So not only do I have the nails of a third grade girl, but I have the hands of a 60-year old steel mill worker. My knuckles are cracked and dry (and sometimes bleed) because I wash my hands so much (because, germs) and thus, my skin no longer has that baby-like softness that my sweet little Gryffindor has.

I try to keep my nails trimmed (because they just get in the way when you’re trying to change a diaper or play pat-a-cake; poor Huff the Babe has been scratched too many times to count) but I don’t really paint them all that often anymore. I mean, if we’re doing family pictures or we’re going to a fancy-schmancy event (which hardly ever happens) I’ll throw some fast-dry NYC nail color on, but that’s about it.

To be honest, I don’t really mind that my nails all too often look janky. I do miss having the time (and energy) to try out new nail art, but my free time is much better spent nowadays watching Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood or rocking a baby back to sleep after she’s woken up (for the third time). Besides, I’d rather get a pedicure than do my own nails ANY DAY!

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What about you? Do you do your nails often? How do you keep your hands from looking like the Sahara? I seriously need all the help I can get.