May 16, 2013

All Of The Feelings

Prairie Valley

I don’t know if it’s post-conference hangover, or the five jobs that I have, or being a pastor’s wife, or a billion other reasons, but all I want to do is get into my truck and drive. Far, far away. During my mini meltdown yesterday, I summed it up for my husband:

It’s not PMS, so I can’t blame it on that. It’s nothing and it’s everything and I don’t even know where to begin.

I came away from Mom 2.0 so incredibly inspired, but I can barely keep up with my day-to-day commitments. There is so much that is expected of me in so many different areas of my life that my “me time” consists of a few minutes sitting here in front of a blank page.

*The cursor has been blinking for five minutes now*

Once upon a time, this is the place where I would vent. That has blown up in my face multiple times and I miss the freedom to speak freely. I also miss my running partner, who has been out with a hip injury. She is one of my best friends and those three hours a week to talk about everything helped keep the balance. She is feeling better and was supposed to run with me today, but has come down with the flu. First World problems, yes, but I need that time to talk with someone other than my husband or my children.

I don’t know, you guys. Everything is bouncing around in my head. I’m discombobulated and angsty and a little bit ridiculous. I’m also getting wrinkles that I’m passing off as dimples and I’m making NO SENSE WHATSOEVER.

This too shall pass and soon I’ll be back to post about my beautiful (albeit LOUD) kids and a cute kitten.

Lucy

 

 

19 comments

Family me

May 15, 2013

For Hillary

Hills

I have a friend named Hillary, who also has two Ls in her name. We met through this crazy thing called the Internet many moons ago, and I can’t remember exactly how it all started. I think she found me first, and found the double L to be a point of connection. Soon we were reading each others sites and emailing and then she asked me to be the photographer for her wedding to Shawn back in 2008. She knew that I was a newbie and she entrusted me with her WEDDING DAY. When the contract came in the mail, our bond was sealed: Her husband’s last name is my maiden name. Moran clan!

Hillary is someone who blesses me constantly. When I’ve gone through rough patches, she’ll send amazing mixed CDs in the mail. In the mail! (I suck at sending mail, though I do love getting things in the mail. I need to be better at reciprocating.) She writes witty and insightful posts, she is awesome at the Tweety, and she shares so many beautiful/hilarious photos of her son Grady that they make my every day. We live four hours apart, but I make the effort to hang out with her if I’m there or if she’s here because she’s Hillary.

If you know her at all, even if only on the Internet, then you know exactly what I’m talking about.

Hillary has been dealing with a wonky thyroid. It came to light that she had a tumor on her neck and she recently had it removed. This past Friday, she had the follow-up appointment to her surgery and she texted me to tell me that her thyroid has cancer. To quote her post:

So I’ve got thyroid cancer. Papillary/follicular cancer to be exact. My bastard thyroid is not content with only one type of cancer. Fucking overachiever grew two.

Hillary is on my mind and heart all day long. She goes back a month from now for another surgery to remove the rest of her thyroid, then will know what the next plan of attack is. BUT, she is in limbo for a month.

She’s mad that she has cancer. I’m mad that she has cancer. She’s HILLARY. This can’t be happening.

Doctors keep telling her that this is a “good” cancer to have. “Cancer” and “Good” are mutually exclusive.

I’ve never had anyone this close to me have cancer, so I don’t know what to do, especially since I can’t drive over and hug her. I’m pouring as much love as I can via texts and emails and I hope to hug her in person this coming weekend, if they make it up this way. In the meantime, can I ask that you lovely people shower her with some love? Maybe you’ve had cancer, or you’ve had friends or family with cancer, or maybe you can crack her up with an inappropriate joke. (She loves inappropriate jokes as much as I do.)

Her website: two L’s please

Her Twitter handle: hillarywith2Ls

Her Instagram: hillarywith2ls

Can you leave her comments of encouragement? And email her if you’ve been there? And maybe tweet words of encouragement to her? I know that “F Cancer” is a standard, but many of you don’t cuss. How about “Thuck the thyroid”? Or something. She has a month to wait before the next step and a month is a very long time.

I’m going to stop typing now. Go forth and love on Hillary. Please.

Love you, Hills.

 

 

14 comments

Friends

May 13, 2013

Flesh Of My Flesh

Mother’s Day can be a hard day for many people. I get it. I lost my first child due to a miscarriage. If I didn’t have the three living, breathing, RIDICULOUSLY AWESOME children, I’d probably hate Mother’s Day, too. But I have three living, breathing, RIDICULOUSLY AWESOME children. I thank God for them every day.

I am not a perfect Mom, but I am a good Mom. They are not perfect children, but they are great children. They are the reason that I make school lunches, and drive to third grade running races, and help out with first grade journals. They are the reason that I cook eggs on toast for breakfast and plan meals that we can sit down and share as a family. They are the reason that we adopted a kitten who seems to think that 5 a.m. is an acceptable wake-up time. They are the reason that I take care of my body so that I can keep up to them, and so that I can model a healthy life. They are the reason that I make their Dad drive to the lake on our way to dinner so that I can be with them in a photo more than once a year.

Me and my babies

They push me and they pull me and they make me wonder if I’m cut out for this. They love me and they make me laugh and they make me think that I might be doing something right. They are the flesh of my flesh and the bone of my bones and I would not be the woman I am today if they were not by my side.

I still can’t believe that I get to be their Mom.

8 comments

Family me

May 9, 2013

Pump Up The Volume

The Minions

When we first got married, I would drive my new husband crazy with my morning-person tendencies. He’s a night owl who likes his sleep and mornings are not his ‘thing.’ I would hop out of bed ready to talk (and talk and talk) and he needed at least an hour before he could process what I said, never mind replying to anything. Thanks to good communication, I learned that Talking = BAD, and it had nothing to do with me. I would still do it — I am what I am — and it got to be something we’d laugh about because WHO TALKS SO MUCH AT 6:30 AM?

(I do.)

Fast forward thirteen years and we have three children who wake up before we do, make themselves breakfast, and are REALLY LOUD while doing so. There are slamming cupboards (Graham) and there is hysterical laughter (Emily) and there is slurping of the cereal milk (Nathan). When we make our way downstairs, we are bombarded with random stories (Graham) and questions about the day (Emily) and demands to have sunblock applied the moment we enter the kitchen (Nathan). They are all HAPPY TO BE AWAKE and SPEAK IN THEIR OUTSIDE VOICES and DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW LOUD THEY ARE.

(If I could harness their superpower to go from sleeping to TALKING LOUDLY AND RUNNING EVERYWHERE in 1.6 seconds, I so would. I’d also sell it to the highest bidder.)

I may be a morning person, but I keep my volume at an acceptable level. Matthew might disagree, but it’s a much lower level than the kids use. I’ve become that stereotypical Mom who says, ‘Please don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee.” And then I laugh, because I only drink a small cup of coffee each morning and I think I’m just using it as an excuse to get them to lower the volume.

I should add that Sir Nathan is the worst offender, all day long. He seems to have lost his inside voice along the way and we miss it so. Every thing that he says is AT TOP VOLUME. The most annoying/hilarious use of his REALLY LOUD VOICE (Irony: My slightest child is the LOUDEST) is when he tries to get my attention to tell me something.

MOM!!

I reply as an adult should.

NATHAN!!

And then we laugh, because he knows why I do it. And yet he never scales the volume back. Never ever.

As for Emily, can I just ask for prayers before we get to the teenage years? There is stomping, there is door slamming, there is throwing herself on the couch in a fury. All while yelling. About how I’M NOT YELLING. I will turn away and giggle, because YELLING ABOUT HOW YOU’RE NOT YELLING is pretty dang funny.

This post is sponsored by the bedtime routine which contained kids yelling about how YES, I BRUSHED MY TEETH (Graham) and I NEED MY WATER BOTTLE (Emily) and LOOK AT ME SHAKING MY BOOTY ON THE STAIRS (Nathan).

I think that I’ve used my allotment of ALL CAPS for the rest of the year, but it was a necessary evil. Welcome to my (VERY LOUD) life.

7 comments

Family Parenting

May 8, 2013

10 Reasons Why You Need To Attend Mom 2.0

I attended the Mom 2.0 Summit this past weekend and I now know why all of my friends were all, YOU NEED TO COME and IT IS SO AMAZING. Because I think that amazing is the best word to describe my time at the conference. I was surrounded by brilliant women (many of whom are friends — I have the best friends), I attended session that saw me shouting YES (Internally) and, well, the views were okay.

IMG_7682

Laguna Beach Sunset

(Do you see the wee red dot that is the sun?)

There are so many things that I took away from this weekend, but I’ll share the ten biggest ones.

1. You are with your people. You write your feelings on the Internet, which may be foreign to people in your social circles at home. At Mom 2.0 you can be as geeky as you want to be.

2. You get face time. I have made many connections via the Internet, but the majority of the strongest ones are with those whom I’ve shared a meal/room/post-midnight snack with.

3. You hear from gifted people. Sitting and listening to words and wisdom spoken vocally is ten times louder than reading it online.

4. You learn new things. We are in a new frontier, which is an ever-evolving space. Sometimes it can feel like you’re treading water. Listening to those who are clipping along and sharing how you can get afloat and get your motor running (head out on the highway) gives you new direction.

5. Have I mentioned the view?

Breakfast view

6. You get hours and hours with your closest crew, who sat with you in sessions and lounged with you by the pool and were there to find you when you got lost in the massive hotel. Man, I miss them.

7. You make new connections and strengthen other connections. You may not take photos of every person — because you’re busy connecting — but just because there isn’t a photo doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen.

8. The photos you do take of the people you spent time with bring you no end of joy.

Mom 2.0 collage

(That center one was staged in response to the WSJ article about Mom bloggers going to conferences in order to escape their families and drink from the mini bar.)(I can’t stop laughing at it.)

9. It’s big enough to meet new people and small enough to connect with your usual people by simply walking through the hotel lobby.

10. You might win something amazing that makes you feel extra special. You might also decide to keep it, because even those of us who live in the buttpoke of nowhere deserve to have something fancy. You might fret about when you will actually use it in a town of 10,000, but know that even if you use it once in a special blue moon, it’s worth it. You are worth it.

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