Tag: #mamalove

I don’t know what you’re first words were, oh well!

by southernbelleoncaffeine, posted in Uncategorized, Women Stuff

Blasphemy! I know, I know! I am a terrible mother. I am not saying that for pity of martyrdom, but seriously, there are key childhood, key baby moments that I just do not have the answers to. But my dear penguin, before you take to the therapist couch just yet and carry all of my baggage with you ( Vera Bradley or Tumi please), please know I have very solid reasons for not knowing some of these answers.

Maybe it’s turning 40 this past year. Maybe it is because she just went to her first dance (daddy-daughter dance) and then I saw pictures of the eighth grade dance on social media and immediately thought “ahh, I can’t take it, that’s next. And then the prom”. Or maybe it’s the People magazine article I read on the opioid crisis among young adults and that sent me tumbling down another rabbit hole all together. But anyhow, I saw this beautiful advertisement on Zulily for one of the chalkboard milestone fill ins that are so popular these days and I started thinking, “I don’t know the answers to those questions “.

The parent fills in X for age, then other answers such as “I can ___”, “My favorite toy___”, and “My favorite foods___”. Oh my did I start feeling like a failure. I immediately asked Tommy for answers and went into a diatribe of “was she going to end up with an empty, or half filled baby book and just a box of keepsakes from her childhood like he has in a closet of his married home”!?!?!? Yes! I spin out easily and fast. Clearly these meds are not working. Which he did mention, have you started the new hormones? I digress.

Tommy , your daddy my dearest love penguin, says your first words were something of the “da-da-da-da” nature. Leaning towards “daddy”. I do not disagree. I am sure even at just a few months old you knew who would be the calmer of the two of us. Please know I have a good reason for not having these answers.

I truly do not remember exactly when you took your first steps. I was too busy trying to protect you from hurting yourself when you did.

I am not sure what you favorite foods were. I only wanted to feed you the healthiest and the best and whatever had the least like-ability you wouldn’t choke on it.

I do not think you had a favorite toy because I did not let you sleep with anything. I did not let you sleep without being held for the first two weeks of your life and then after that you slept without anything close to you, on a breathing monitor with a video monitor. I did this because I was scared of something happening while you slept.

So, no I don’t have all the answers from your baby days. I don’t know all of your first. There were days I was so anxiety ridden with something happening to you that those days led to sleepless nights. I’ve just tried to protect you since the day you were born. I don’t have the answers because I was too busy loving you.

*Disclaimer: I do not insinuate that parents who do know the answers love their children any less. This is my blog. My thoughts.

So glad I’m not missing this

by southernbelleoncaffeine, posted in The Penguin and The Belle

Who knew Chick-fil-A could be a fine dining experience? Take a Penguin with you and you will see. Despite the intermittent play breaks it still takes her a good thirty minutes to even eat her food. Plus she must decide the difficult decision of keeping her treat or turning it in for ice cream. There are list involved sometimes.

During one of these visits while she pondered life across from me, I just couldn’t help but smile. Smile and thank God for this opportunity that my husband was giving me to be a stay at home mom with her. I was immersed in her conversation while at the same time so delighted not to be at a workplace. I could feel the freshness and weightlessness of the genuine moment we were sharing.

“It’s weird I like these cherries, I mean , I didn’t always like them.”

“Okay, and then what happened?”

“But, I drink cherry coke, and that’s cherry…..so, I don’t know”

I’m just smiling from ear to ear.

She flips her hair.

“Was my hair like this when I was five”?

Then I just laughed and was so thankful I had not missed a moment of what just happened.

Let your soul be wild and free my little one

by southernbelleoncaffeine, posted in The Penguin and The Belle

I have pondered the nature vs nurture debate quite often when it comes to my anxiety. It always seemed that nurture would win in the cause category until recently. If I were to make a list of MY anxiety, it may still beat out another hypothesis as the root cause, but I am learning, in the parenting game, things are not always what they seem. I know one thing for certain. Someone without anxiety cannot understand another person trying to explain the reasons why and how to them, which make dealing with it quite lonely at times.

I contributed most of my anxiety issues to my grandmother. I learned as an adult, due to multiple tragedies in her life she had much to be anxious about. But when I stayed with her a lot growing up I didn’t understand that. As my anxiety began to take hold, I thought it must be because I was exposed to hers so much. Then I learned my daddy has it too, which would make sense. Except, except I never knew growing up my Daddy had anxiety.?

Now I see my seven year old experience it. She has exhibited signs since a young age and it manifest in different ways. But, I make a very contentious effort NOT to expose her to my anxiety. So much so that I have other family members help rationalize situations for me so I do not let it get the best of me. Believe me, I’ve come a long way since she was an infant! But to see her with it breaks my heart because I know how she feels. Could it be a manipulation at times? Sure, I am aware of that, just as I am aware of what true anxiety looks like on the face of my seven year old.

My husband, as great as he is, is not someone who understands. Oh sure, he understands my anxiety for the super Center and that look I get when I am about to melt down. But he doesn’t understand this gut wrenching, deep breathing anxiety. The kind that has kept me up all night to write this at 4:15 a.m

I only hope she can hold on to the parts of her soul that are wild and carefree. The parts that laugh at everything with a giggle that can warm the coldest of souls. The wander I see in her eyes as she studies something with her mind working on how it may operate. I want her to hold onto the part that operates on stuffed animals with ketchup and gloves and leave the heavy burden of anxiety to me. I’m her mama, her keeper, I can carry the load for us both.

Of course, dreams come true my dear child

by southernbelleoncaffeine, posted in The Penguin and The Belle

 
As we were taking a bath tonight, I made the water turn purple and the penguin giggled with delight as she said, “Mama! You’ve made all my dreams come true!” For a brief moment I thought not only was this a bit dramatic, for which I smiled because that’s ‘all me’, but also I thought how I wish it would always be that simple. But then she paused and looked up with my blue eyes and asked, “do your dreams always come true mama?” There was no hesitation as I smiled back and said “of course they do my Penguin “. 

The world is not always nice and she will learn on her own sooner than I would like. As long as I can, I will make her dreams come true and more importantly, I will continue to teach her that her dreams will come true.

My Holiday OCD is having to be tamed

by southernbelleoncaffeine, posted in Everyday Experiences


I understand this might not make sense to some. I also understand some people probably don’t see me as having any OCD tendencies seeing the way I live now, with the laundry in piles and all, and I get that. However, those of you that are skeptics would be interested to find I have quite a few quirks that I’m sure a psychologist would love to figure out. Most of these I do keep within some type of ‘control’, or I had to adapt to having a penguin almost seven years ago. 

One of the biggest ones has been my holiday OCD issue. Before the penguin was born, I had holiday rules that had to be followed or my mind would just explode. Not just your run of the mill don’t-put-Christmas-out-before Thanksgiving issue either. There were no clothes to be worn except for that holiday, no movies to be watched, no food to be ate. One did not watch “Charlie Brown The Great Pumpkin” outside of the month of October, or occasionally the network would throw me off course and save it for November. All of the sacred Christmas movies were saved for December only! 

Then the penguin was born. As she got old enough to watch movies, one of her favorite groups to watch was “Frosty the Snowman ” and “Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer”. In ANY month. It took me a lot to get used to. I actually tried to talk her out of it. 

Now, I look down and find myself in July wearing Halloween socks. Gasp. What was once unheard of is just pure survival because the Halloween socks are the ones I can find clean. I just find it amusing that I’ve changed that much all because of my penguin. The best thing ever. The love of my life. I am still holding a strong front against wearing Christmas socks though.

Yes, but you’ve never raised a strong willed penguin…

by southernbelleoncaffeine, posted in The Penguin and The Belle

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Wasting time on Facebook today, I came across a shared post by Becky Thompson titled To The Momma Of The Stong-Willed Child. I smiled, not sure if I should share the post with an “I love you” to my mama, or if I should read it for tips on the miniture version of my strong-willed self. I have read Becky Thompson before and am quite fond of her writing. She has a soothing way about her words that when I read them I just feel as if I am in a fuzzy blanket and everything is calm. Since I am facing my eleven day stretch without my husband, and have the strong-willed penguin to face once I get home, I decided I should read the post. I could probably use the encouragement.

The post starts off with “I can’t remember where I saw you last”. I immediately think, oh no! she saw me last weekend on the sidewalk at Wal-Mart just after the penguin climbed a ladder in a store. Probably not my finest moment as a mom, but not the last moment like that either since I have a long time to go with this strong-willed penguin (just ask my mama, I’m almost 37).  Becky went on to write this, and this is where the fuzzy blanket feeling comes out:

You know, it takes a special kind of momma to raise a strong-willed child. It takes a certain endless amount of grace to continually define the lines of what is and isn’t acceptable all while little hearts ceaselessly push back. It’s hard work defining the same boundaries a million times a day.

I know that it’s exhausting.

I know that most days you worry that you’re not capable of handling this job.

Did you feel it? That warm feeling when you read the words “special kind of momma”? I felt like I had won a medal when she acknowledged “I know that it’s exhausting”.  I did think of my mama and how much we pushed and pulled with one another. I thought that even thought she acknowledged I was a strong-willed child, she was just as strong-willed and determined so it was a constant battle. I on the other hand take a different approach with raising my spirited (someone used that term instead of strong-willed the other day, as if strong-willed was a bad thing) penguin. I pick my battles. Because she is the EXACT version of me at five years old, I know what she is thinking, what she is feeling. So as the parent I choose what I battle with. This doesn’t mean she isn’t respectful and unruly. This simply means that I don’t always have to win because I am the parent.

This next part though. Oh, it just made my heart smile.

The truth is, what they are really good at is knowing their own mind – not being easily deterred – confidently proclaiming exactly what they want and how they want it done.

Deep down, we know that this is a good thing. Mommas of strong-willed children know that the traits that make most days feel endless, also mean that our children will also grow up to be motivated, determined, leaders.

Oh I just smiled again as I posted it into here. My mama has to be glad that started as a strong-willed child and grew into a strong-willed woman. I know I hope that for my penguin. I think of all the bumps and holes I have hit a long this journey of life and know that my stubborn determination is what made me get through. I see my penguin taking her own turns and twist and hope and pray that the strength and willingness she has today carries her through those times when she just has to push through. Do my days feel endless? Have you read my post about the carousel? I don’t even know day to night most of the time, especially during the 11 day stretch my husband is gone. But, do I have a motivated, determined penguin? Absolutely!

And this last prayer that Becky ended with is the one I pray for any and all

May you find yourself with grace to spare at the end of the day… as you prepare for another day of raising greatness again tomorrow.

I am so glad that wasting time on Facebook led me to this post. I have not posted on here in awhile simply because of all that strong-willed penguin has me involved in. My time is her time you see, and I have found it difficult to find any time to express the emotions or words of myself or Penelope for we are both too busy chasing after her.