Wake Up

I’m not a late sleeper, by any means. I get excited if I get to sleep in and, by “sleep in”, I mean past 6am on any day. Even growing up, I was always the first one up. Then came Basic Training and we sure as hell didn’t sleep there. No big deal.

Except.

Beanie has decided she doesnlt care to sleep in anymore. And by “sleep in”, I mean past 5am. Her wake ups keep getting earlier and earlier. Last Wednesday morning, as I am peacefully sleeping in my nice, comfy, king size bed, I heard thumping and foot steps pounding through my house.  All I kept thinking is “please be  a dream, please be a dream” and then I hear “HI CAN-DIN!” Well hell. Now she’s awake, I’m awake, and the dog is awake.  So I scoop her up and put her between E and I and try to whisper to her to go back to sleep.

Except this child only has two decibels. Loud and Even Freaking Louder.

Me: beanie, you gotta whisper, mmmkay? Daddy’s sleeping.

Beanie: SHHHHH! DADDY’S SLEEPING!!!

Well no. Not anymore. Every occupant of the graveyard 2 miles down the road know you’re awake.

Saturday Morning. Let me set the scene:

tantrum*Someone* woke up at 0430 and *someone* insists that they weren’t tired. Yet, *someone* was singing me the song of their people. This was in response to me telling her “please continue telling me how you aren’t tired and you don’t need a nap”. Thank god I got released and was able to have a coffee date.

tantrum2tantrum3Oh dear Beanie.

Let me sing you the song of *MY* people. It’s called a nap. It’s also called “Mama wins”. She managed to nap like this for 2 hours while I was at my coffee date.

I think the only thing that saves my sanity is that I know she won’t be 2 eventually. Assuming she survives until Sept 😀

NaBloPoMo – Nov 16th

25 Things About Me

I know I’ve done this before but there is one of those annoying “Like My Status And I’ll Give You A Number”. I’ve seen some people do it 4 times. 29 facts later, I know all but their shoe size…That’s just a lot of information for FB to handle. But I decided

1) I wear a size 5.5Y workboot. I have ridiculously small feet. It’s abnormal. I’ve heard all of the jokes. “Did you break into TRU and steal GI Joe’s combat boots?” and “How do you not trip more?” and my personal favorite, from my old supervisor on the ship “We can’t find you boots from this distributor so I’m going to need you to go stand in shit and hope your feet grow”. I’ll get right on that.

2) I’m a Car Rockstar. I’ve attracted a LOT of attention and have had people outright point and laugh at me as I drive by because I sing (and sometimes dance) while I’m driving down the road. Sometimes I’m Carrie Underwood, other times I’m Jessica Simpson. I’m even part of the TSO during the holiday season. It depends on my mood.

3) I ran a 5K, a 10K, and a Half Marathon in 2013. I know this seems like it’s not a big deal at all but to me, someone who was 217lbs at delivery, having packed on a substantial amount of weight during my pregnancy, this is a huge accomplishment for me. I call myself an “accidental runner” because I never intended to fall in love with this sport. I started the C25K as a resolution for Feb through April and it skyrocketed from there.

4) I’m deathly scared of water I can’t see the bottom of. I know, I know. “But Lara, you’re in the Coast Guard”. I understand the confusion. I just don’t go in water I can’t see the bottom of, whether it be a lake, river, ocean, etc. I did go into the ocean while I was in Hawaii because I could see the bottom, but even then, I didn’t go past my knees. I wanted the option to run if I needed to. This started during swim call in 2001. I jumped off the side of the ship, into the Caribbean Ocean. I got some goggles and, under me, a school of hammerheads. I made like Jesus and walked on water. No Thanks.

5) I entered the Coast Guard when I was still 17 yrs old. I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I grew up but I knew I needed to get away from my mother and sister so I signed up. My mother had to sign the papers so I could leave since I was still, legally, a minor. I turned 18 during the last week of Basic Training.

6) I’m taking college classes and working towards a BA in Hospitality Manangement with a concentration in Event Planning. Yea. I don’t know why but I love planning parties. I don’t really like dealing with people, especially when they are at a particularly shrill time in their lives but seeing the faces of people who are impressed makes it totally worth it. I thrive on pleasing people. Even though I don’t give a shit what people think of me, I like to see people pleased.

7) I’ve driven across the Bridge Between The Americas. It’s just like any other bridge except it connects North America and South America. I did this when I was in Panama. While I was there, I crossed through the Canal. It’s annoying and a pain in the ass because it took forever. And it rained the entire time.

8) I’m obsessed with the History Channel, the Freemasons in particular. E and I will DVR and watch any and all shows relating to the Freemasons. I actually know some members of the Masons and while they tell me a lot of these shows are propoganda, I still love them and find them absolutely fascinating. I love making the connections to how their actions created our country.

9) I am one of the most loyalest and most fiercely protective people you will ever meet. I’m hard to get to know. I don’t like people in, very easily, because I’ve been hurt by “friends” but once you’re in, I’ve got your back. I still have the same 3 best friends that I’ve had since kindergarten. We’ve lost touch through some years and my first marriage almost destroyed them, but they’ve remained by my side and I know, if I were to call them tomorrow, crying, one would ask if I needed her to come up to Maine, another would tell me the guest room is clean and to come back to MD, the third would ask me if she needed a shovel or cement. They get me. No matter how long between visits, we pick right up where we left off. If you mess with my family or my friends, I will come after you and make your life hell. I hold grudges for a long, long time.

10) I have OCD. It’s not awful. Like, I don’t have to walk in and out of a door frame 13 times before I can sit down but my DVDs are alphabetized, my CDs are organized by genre and then alphabetized, I have to count my daughter’s Little People before I can go to bed (once, Snow White was missing, and I tore our living room apart to find her), the TV or radio volume must be on an increment of 5. At any given time, the TV in our house is either way too low or way too loud. When I run, I have to end at an even time. I either have to run for 30 mins or 35 mins. I can’t stop at 32 mins. I try to time my mileage to my clock because it drives me batty to have 30 mins but only 3.32 miles. My mileage needs to be an increment of 5, as well.

11) I played the trumpet in elementary and middle school. I wasn’t fantastic or anything but I only started playing because I knew me practicing it would drive my mother bananas. She got the last laugh because she would send me over to a friends house to practice with him and his mother. Touche Ma. In hindsight, I wish I had played the clarinet.

12) I was the best parent I have ever met…before I had a child. Before I had Beanie, I used to roll my eyes at the parents that complained about being tired or how hard being a Stay At Home Mom (SAHM) was or how much laundry needed to get done, etc. I was all “dude, the kid sleeps. It can’t be THAT hard”. Then I had Beanie. She was an easy baby so I still got my “chores” done but the lack of sleep – that about did me in. I still don’t think it’s that hard to get things done with a child in the house but I rarely ever admit that for fear that I’d further fuel the Mommy Wars.

13)  I despise being called “Mommy”. I have called myself “mama” ever since Beanie was born. E refers to me as “Mama” when he needs Beanie to recognize me in some way, shape, or form. Beanie, in turn, has never called me “Mommy”

14) I think the “Mommy Wars” are the dumbest f**king thing ever. I think it all started from a mother who insisted she knew everything and when someone dared to differ from her way of thinking, it became a huge deal. Now, the people who continue the war, I think, are the most insecure. The people who will BF in public simply for a reaction, the people who stop others to tell them the carseat isn’t correct (when they aren’t asked), the people who tell people formula is poison. There are people from every department and, just once, I’d like everyone to STFU and understand that no one knows what’s best for any child but they’re own. And, for the love of all that is Holy, if you don’t have a child, you don’t have a dog in this fight so please keep your opinions to yourself.

15) I have 10 tattoo “pieces”. I have “Deifuir” on the top of my shoulder (it means “Sister” in Gaelic), “Nochtann Gra Noi” with a shamrock between my shoulder blades (it means “Love Reveals Beauty” in Gaelic), 4 Japanese characters on my lower back (they are supposed to mean: Courage, Beauty, Love, True” but they probably mean Chicken Noodle Soup), “There You’ll Be” with my uncle and grandfather’s initials under it, a Honu turtle on my stomach (under my belly button) with “True to One, Enemy to None” which is a play on Ben Franklin’s speech and also stolen from Dee, a hibscus on my right foot, a teal cherryblossom with Beanie’s name on my left wrist, a support ribbon on my left side ribcage with “Unbreakable Strength” over it and my maternal grandfather’s birth date (18) in roman numerals, and three sparrows on my right side ribcage. I’m planning on getting “V, X, XII.I” on my left calf to represent the races I’ve run (5K, 10K, Half Marathon).

16) I can touch my nose with my tongue. I’m pretty sure I was drunk when I figured this out but yea. I have a freakishly long tongue.

17) Some of my greatest friends are people I’ve met on the internet. When I was planning my first wedding, I joined the message boards on WeightWatchers.com. Now, 8 years later, I’m still FB friends with a lot of them and, a lot of them I’ve never met in person.

18) I’m extremely opinionated. I, often times, make a terrible first impression because I speak my mind but one thing I pride myself on is that I won’t ever say anything behind your back that I wouldn’t or haven’t already said to your face. I once threw someone off during an argument because I corrected them when they said “well you said…”. I interrupted them and said “no, what I said was…” and that was actually worse than what they thought I had said. It ended up ending the argument because I was truthful and forthcoming. Most people think it’s that I lack a filter. It’s just that I’m opinionated and have zero tolerance for the bullshit.

19) I hate birds. I hate them with a passion. I can’t eat outdoors because I am too distracted with where they are and how close they are to me. I have them tattooed to me for a Sailor tradition but actual, real life birds, I don’t want them near me. I was running once when three turkeys came out of the bushes. I screamed and took off.

20) I am a HUGE Ravens Fan.

I grew up, born and raised in Baltimore and I remember when the Ravens came to Baltimore in Aug of 1996. I went to high school with a guy that played for the Ravens (he's now out of the NFL due to a severe knee injury). I've met several players from the Ravens.

I grew up, born and raised in Baltimore and I remember when the Ravens came to Baltimore in Aug of 1996. I went to high school with a guy that played for the Ravens (he’s now out of the NFL due to a severe knee injury). I’ve met several players from the Ravens.

21) I’ve traveled to a lot of places but still haven’t hit the places on my Bucket List. With being on the ship, I was given the opportunity to travel all over the place. I can’t say “world” because it was narrowed down to North and South Americas but I had an absolute blast. I spent my 19th Birthday in NYC (after 9/11), my 20th birthday in Manta, Ecuador, in addition to hiking through the jungles of Costa Rica, seeing the drug slums of Colombia, the lush terrain (but shitty economy) of Haiti, Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, Jamaica, to name a few. I still have the clay fish that K stole for me in Costa Rica. He stole it to make me feel better after a monkey pooped on me. I still want to make it to England, Scotland, Ireland, Greece, and Italy. Someday, I hope.

22) I’m pretty positive that I’m addicted to York Peppermint Patties. I eat a ridiculous amount of them. I’m pretty sure those are the blame for my weight gain.

23) Contrary to my friends, I did NOT know I would be marrying E when I first met him. So many of my peeps have said “I knew I was gonna marry my man when I first met him”. That wasn’t me. I thought we would just be friends and I could take advantage of him and make him take me to dinner. That backfired. But in a good way 😉

24) Reality TV is my non-food addiction. If there is a reality TV show on, chances are I probably DVR it, unless it’s Big Brother. I don’t understand that TV show. I DVR The Amazing Race, The Real Housewives of Everywhere (except DC), Survivor, those godawful MTV shows, to name a few.

25) I’ve never not lived near the water. Where ever I’ve lived, I’ve never been more than 20 miles from the water, whether it be the bay or the ocean.

NaBloPoMo – Nov 15th

Day 15: If you could quit one bad habit instantly without difficulty, which would it be?

Oh. Ma. Gawd.

The Hair Twirling.

I’m a hair twirler and I seriously need meetings to stop this shit. I will find a chunk of hair and I will run my fingers down it over and over and over and over. It’s almost like a nervous twitch. If I wear my hair down, you can guarantee that I will have one chunk of greasy hair by the end of the day. I’ve had people threaten to cut it off if I didn’t stop.

Now, my p0or daughter. She’s inherited this from me. When she gets stressed or overwhelmed or tired, she will suck on one thumb and play with her hair with the other. She will twirl it around or simply “tease” it (pick it up and drop it, thus creating a rats nest).

This is what I saw upon the small human waking this morning

This is what I saw upon the small human waking this morning

It drives me batty because, to wrastle it in the mornings, it creates WW 15 or 16, I can’t remember which one we’re on. It’s awesome if she were to leave it alone and be cute but, well, she’s two. She also has a perpetual Snooki bump.

I can't tame it unless I weigh it down

I can’t tame it unless I weigh it down

She has fairly longer hair, for a 2 yr old but it’s curly. I’m talking Shirley friggin Temple curly. She will never have to do her hair for a dance or fancy occassion if we can teach her to leave her hands out of it.

The Curls

The Curls

So far that’s my OCD and my hair issues that she’s inherited. How much worse is this going to get? That chapter is unwritten.

NaBloPoMo – Nov 14th

Day 14: Are you a morning person or a night owl?

I missed a day. Don’t tell on me.

Based on my last post, I think it’s safe to say I’m a morning person. I wake up no later 6:30 every morning. I physically cannot sleep any later. I don’t mind it, it gives me time to relax before I start my day.

On the same token, I rarely stay up past 10pm. Ever. If it’s a work night, I’m usually in bed by 9. Seriously. My parents have called before, at 9:20pm, and I’ve slept through the ringing phone. Or if I do answer, my dad is all “sorry to call so late”. I’m an old woman, I won’t apologize for my life. I’ve always been like this, though. I need sleep.

It kind of worked out that my kid’s sleeping adjusted early on. I got lucky and she started STTN around 7w old. She would get up around 5p and go to bed around 10p. That worked for me. I could hand her off to E around 9, go to sleep, and see her in the AM. We became much better friends when she started that.

Now that it’s friday, it’s technically not a work night, I might live dangerously. I might actually stay up until 10. I don’t know though. WWE Smackdown comes on at 8, Modern Family is on, my DVR has some stuff on it that I need to catch up on. I might just go to bed early and wake up to a wonderfully full DVR. Seriously, I DVR shows that come on at 8, “just in case”.

I’m not ashamed of my Old Person Status.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to prep for my afternoon nap.

NaBloPoMo – Nov 3

There are things in this world that will wind me up and get me going. Fewer things that really tick me off but one thing that really grinds my gears, burns my biscuits, and chaps my ass: someone telling someone else how to parent their child.

Ultimately, the #1 reason that I will ever go to jail for assaulting someone will, in fact, be because someone told me how to parent Beanie. I’ll be the first to admit, I question my own parenting sometimes. There are times where I sit back and look at her and think “how in the holy hell have I kept this small human alive for TWO years?” Seriously. She’s already two years off and she’s thriving. We’ve had our ups and downs and times where we tried to unfriend each other in real life but we’ve managed. At the end of every night, she looks at me, gives me night time hugs, and blows kisses. She doesn’t care that I think I’m f**king it up. She doesn’t care that I’m worried about my weight or that I struggle with how to explain life to her or that I worry, constantly, what will happen when she’s older. She just knows I’m the person who gives her hugs and milk and yells occasionally. But only when she’s being an asshole, I promise.

So with that in mind, imagine my rage when I saw this article going around the inter webs.

Happy Halloween and Happy Holidays Neighbor!

You are probably wondering why your child has this note; have you ever heard the saying, ‘It takes a village to raise a child’? I am disappointed in ‘the village’ of Fargo Moorhead, West Fargo.

You [sic] child is, in my opinion, moderately obese and should not be consuming sugar and treats to the extent of some children this Halloween season.

My hope is that you will step up and parent and ration candy this Halloween and not allow your child to continue these unhealthy eating habits.

Thank You

Was this bitch for real? I mean, let’s overlook the fact that girls, these days, already have it rough enough. Between social media and the real world, I cry for what’s to come for my daughter. Now I have to worry about how I’m going to explain the asshole woman who is handing out notes because she thinks it’s her right to tell a child that she deems them overweight? And that she’s singling them out, as only a true asshole would do, and not give them candy because SHE thinks they don’t need it?

Mama Bear will come the f**k out and roar.

The Mom Wars are ugly and this makes it even uglier.

*The Breast Feeding vs Formula Feeding Battle.

*The Front Facing vs Extended Rear Facing Battle.

*The Breast Feeding in Public vs in Private Battle.

*Cry-It-Out vs Cuddle until Asleep Battle.

These are just a few of the battles that people engage in. WOMEN engage in. Against other women. It’s disgusting. As if battling one another wasn’t terrible enough, we have a new opponent.

I rarely comment on people’s parenting out loud. I mean, I’ve said my piece to the ghetto bitch who was dragging her child through the store by his arm. Or to the mother who slapped her child so hard, I heard it from a different aisle in the grocery store. But for the most part, I keep my comments contains in my head (or to E, if he’s with me). I have never, in my life, thought to ever walk up to a woman and tell her “you’re doing it wrong”. For serious. Why do people feel that this is acceptable behavior? Why do people feel it’s completely ok to just strike up a conversation with a stranger and manage to find a way to work it that you feel, as someone who knows everything about them in the 5 mins you’ve known them, it’s ok to tell them how to “correct” their parenting. It’s not anyone’s job to “educate” anyone else. Now, if someone asks for your opinion, rant on, my friend. Rant the hell on.

YOU don’t know what’s best for MY child so please, for your safety and my freedom, please refrain from speaking your piece on my parenting. The happy, little 2 yr old with the blond curls and the polite manners says, to me, that something is obviously being done correctly and that I don’t need you to step in and tell me your opinions.

*Note: to add to this: if you don’t have kids, have never birthed a child, adopted a child, had custody of a child, please, for the love of all that is Holy, do not think it’s a-ok to state an opinion about child-rearing or childbirth. Trust me. I used to know everything about children until I had one.

I mean, I'm raising a Mini Ravens Fan. Obviously I'm doing it right

I mean, I’m raising a Mini Ravens Fan. Obviously I’m doing it right

Mariner Mother’s Day 5K

First off – Happy Mother’s Day to all you moms out there!! I hope your day has been spectacular and I hope you get some type of rest and relaxation 🙂

Back in January, I said I wasn’t going to make any resolutions. I swore off of them because I never stick to them. Instead, I said I was going to make monthly resolutions consisting of things I could actually accomplish. In Feb, my SIL and I decided we were going to go back to Couch To 5K and attempt to complete it. I finally did it. I must have started this program three times (probably more) and I finally finished it. It definitely wasn’t in 8 weeks, I mean, it was all I could do to work FT, be a mom FT, be a wife FT, and take online classes but I managed.

Today, I ran my first 5K ever.

Mariner Mother's Day 5K

Mariner Mother’s Day 5K

This was, by far, my fastest time ever. Go figure, the only person I knew there (that was running, E and Beanie came to cheer me on) was the UPS man that delivers to my work. We didn’t run together but I’m pretty sure he beat me. Story of my life.

IMG_3866

My Cheerleader

My Cheerleader

The course was exactly what I thought it was. It wasn’t pretty but I finished. And I’m still alive, that’s a bonus. I survived and I’m already planning the next run. I think I can honestly call myself a runner now, even if I do get out ran by old men.

The rest of the day has been a lazy one but that’s a typical sunday for us. Although I did get an awesome card from Beanie

Mother's Day 2013

Mother’s Day 2013

 

She even got dressed up for me ;) because, you know, you can never have too many tutus on. At once. And shoes on the correct feet? Overrated!

She even got dressed up for me 😉 because, you know, you can never have too many tutus on. At once. And shoes on the correct feet? Overrated!

25 Rules for Mothers of Daughters

When I was that blog post about social media and the impact it has on today’s youth, I got to thinking about values and morals that I hope Beanie can learn from me. And then I found this list. It’s been passed around for a little while but I’m just now seeing it. To whoever wrote it : You nailed it!

1. Paint her nails. Then let her scratch it off and dirty them up. Teach her to care about her appearance, and then quickly remind her that living and having fun is most important.

2. Let her put on your makeup, even if it means bright-red-smudged lips and streaked-blue eyes. Let her experiment in her attempts to be like you… then let her be herself.

3. Let her be wild. She may want to stay home and read books on the couch, or she may want to hop on the back of a motorcycle *GASP*. She might be a homebody or a traveler. She may fall in love with the wrong boy, or meet Mr. Right at age 5. Try to remember that you were her age once. Everyone makes mistakes, let her make her own.

4. Be present. Be there for her at her kindergarten performances, her dance recitals, her soccer games… her everyday-little-moments. When she looks through the crowds of people, she will be looking for your smile and pride. Show it to her as often as possible.

5. Encourage her to try on your shoes and play dress-up. If she would rather wear her brother’s superman cape with high heels, allow it. If she wants to wear a tutu or dinosaur to the grocery store, why stop her? She needs to decide who she is and be confident in her decision.

6. Teach her to be independent. Show her by example that women can be strong. Find and follow your own passions. Search for outlets of expression and enjoyment for yourself – not just your husband or children. Define yourself by your own attributes, not by what others expect you to be. Know who you are as a person, and help your daughter find out who she is.

7. Pick flowers with her. Put them in her hair. There is nothing more beautiful than a girl and a flower.

8. Let her get messy. Get messy with her, no matter how much it makes you cringe inside. Splash in the puddles, throw snowballs, make mud pies, finger paint the walls: just let it happen. The most wonderful of memories are often the messy ones.

9. Give her good role models – you being one of them. Introduce her to successful women – friends, co-workers, doctors, astronauts, or authors. Read to her about influential women – Eleanor Roosevelt, Rosa Parks, Marie Curie. Read her the words of inspirational women – Jane Austen, Sylvia Plath, Emily Dickinson. She should know that anything is possible.

10. Show her affection. Daughters will mimic the compassion of their mother. “I love yous” and Eskimo kisses go a long way.

11. Hold her hand. Whether she is 3 years old in the parking lot or 16 yrs old in the mall, hold onto her always – this will teach her to be confident in herself and proud of her family.

12. Believe in her. It is the moments that she does not believe in herself that she will need you to believe enough for both of you. Whether it is a spelling test in the first grade, a big game or recital, a first date, or the first date of college… remind her of the independent and capable woman you have taught her to be.

13. Tell her how beautiful she is. Whether it is her first day of kindergarten, immediately after a soccer game where she is grass-strained and sweaty, or her wedding day. She needs your reminders. She needs your pride. She needs your reassurance. She is only human.

14. Love her father. Teach her to love a good man, like him. One who lets her be herself… she is, after all, wonderful.

15. Makes forts with boxes and blankets. Help her to find magic in the ordinary, to imagine, to create and to believe in fairy tales. Someday she will make her 5 by 5 dorm room her home with magic touches and inspiration. And she will fall in love with a boy and believe him to be Prince Charming.

16. Read to her. Read her Dr. Seuss, and Eric Carle. But also remember the power of Sylvia Plath and Robert Frost. Show her the beauty of words on a page and let her see you enjoy them. Words can be simply written and simply spoken, yet can harvest so much meaning. Help her to find their meaning.

17. Teach her how to love – with passion and kisses. Love her passionately. Love her father passionately and her siblings passionately. Express your love. She her how to love with no restraint. Let her get her heart broken and try again. Let her cry, and gush, giggle and scream. She will love like you love or hate like you hate. So, choose love for both you and her.

18. Encourage her to dance and sing. Dance and sing with her – even if it sounds or looks horrible. Let her wiggle to nursery rhymes. Let her dance on her daddy’s feet and spin in your arms. Then later, let her blast noise and head bang in her bedroom with her door shut if she wants. Or karaoke to Tom Petty in the living room if she would rather. Introduce her to the classics – like The Beatles – and listen to her latest favorites – like Taylor Swift. Share the magic of music together, it will bring you closer together – or at least create a soundtrack of your life together.

19. Share secrets together. Communicate. Talk. Talk about anything. Let her tell you about boys, friends, school. Listen. Ask questions. Share dreams, hopes, concerns. She is not only your daughter, you are not only her mother. Be her friend too.

20. Teach her manners. Because sometimes you have to be her mother, not just her friend. The world is a happier place when made up of polite words and smiles.

21. Teach her when to stand up and when to walk away. Whether she has classmates who tease her because of her glasses, or a boyfriend who tells her she is too fat – let her know she doesn’t have to listen. Make sure she knows how to demand respect – she is worthy of it. It does not mean she has to fight back with fists or words, because sometimes you say more with silence. Also make sure she knows which battles are worth fighting. Remind her that some people can be mean and nasty because of jealousy, or other personal reasons. Help her to understand when to shut her mouth and walk away. Teach her to be the better person.

22. Let her choose who she loves. Even when you see through the charming boy she thinks he is, let her love him without your disapproving words; she will anyway. When he breaks her heart, be there for her with words of support rather than “I Told You So”. Let her mess up again and again until she finds the one. And when she finds the one, tell her.

23. Mother her. Being a mother – to her – is undoubtedly one of your greatest accomplishments. Share with her the joys of motherhood, so one day she will want to be a mother too. Remind her over and over again with words and kisses that no one will ever love her like you love her. No one can replace or replicate a mother’s love for their children.

24. Comfort her. Because sometimes you just need your mama. When she is sick, rub her back, make her soup, and cover her in blankets – no matter how old she is. Someday, if she is giving birth to her own child, push her hair out of her face, encourage her, and tell her how beautiful she is. These are the moments she will remember you for. And someday when her husband rubs her back in attempt to comfort her, she may just whisper “I need my mama”

25. Be home. When she is sick with a cold or broken heart, she will come to you; welcome her. When she is engaged or pregnant, she will run to you to share her news; embrace her. When she is lost or confused, she will search for you; find her. When she needs advice on boys, schools, friends, or an outfit; tell her. She is your daughter and will always need a safe harbor – where she can turn a key and see comforting eyes and a familiar smile; be home.

Instagram

In the social media world that we live in, it’s ever evolving. First there was MySpace. Then there was FaceBook for students only. FB eventually opened up to become the world’s largest social network. Now there are offshoots. Twitter, Tumblr, Tout, and now Instagram.

I’m on Instagram. I enjoy it. I find it to be more private than FB so I can share pics of Beanie without the worry of who is seeing them. It’s also a way to document my WLJ and other random pics.

When I take pics of my runs and HRM, I sometimes tag them with odd tags. Friday’s photo looked like this:

(names and comments have been deleted to protect the screen names of others)

(names and comments have been deleted to protect the screen names of others)

And just for shits and giggles, I tapped on the #wanttobeskinny tag and lo and behold, there were several pics of extremely skinny girls. And one, in particular, broke my heart. Her tags were #bulimic, #anorexic, #nomorefood, etc. I can’t wrap my mind around this but this find came on the heels of reading a pretty interesting article.

This blog post has been floated around FB for the past couple of days and it really struck me. Actually, it scared the shit out of me. This is what I’m going to have to potentially deal with, having a daughter of my own. It seems like kids these days (Man I feel old saying that) base their self worth on what happens on social media. How many friends can they have on FB, how many followers they can get on Instagram, what people read their Tumblr pages, etc. This makes it nearly impossible for parents to instill values into their children, and to almost convince them that they are worth so much more than what these media outlets are telling them.

After reading this, I thought “How the hell can I possibly raise this little girl to be an independent, self-made woman who knows what she’s worth and because of that, demand the respect she is entitled to?

Beanie already marches to the beat of her own drum. She likes to do her own thing and while some people judge for that (obviously she’s so independent because she wasn’t breast fed or coddled as an infant BAER), she seems happy.

You wanna wear work boots? You rock them harder than work boots have ever been rocked.

You wanna wear work boots? You rock them harder than work boots have ever been rocked.

You want to pair a leopard print tutu with cupcake pajamas? Do it up, sister!

You want to pair a leopard print tutu with cupcake pajamas? Do it up, sister!

and above all, if you want to sit back and watch the world and observe

do it in a fabulous pair of sunglasses that you chose because you love them

do it in a fabulous pair of sunglasses that you chose because you love them

 

 

What do you do when you’re snowed in?

What do you do when the outside looks like this?

Snow Shacks

We brought this upstairs because we want her to just leave us the f**k alone keep herself occupied and have a blast

Driving

But then this happened

Wreckage

And after hitting it three times, kicking it once, and throwing her cell phone at it, we realized she may have also inherited my anger management issues, in addition to my road rage.

Please let us see spring soon!

Big Girl by Danielle Steel

I finished the book I started a while ago. I couldn’t find the time to actually sit down and pay attention between Beanie, E, work, and studying for my class and tests for work. But I finally finished it.

I was infuriated by the very end.

I can’t say I relate with any part of this book other than having the classic “second child syndrome” and feeling like my sister was the favorite. There might be some truth to this seeing as I was an absolute hellion growing up. But in this case, it was the first born that was treated like shit because she was different. No, not because she was different, because she was fat. Plain and simple, because she was chunkier than the rest of her family, she had to endure teasing from her father, being ignored by her mother, having her sister become a model and marry an asshole just like her father, and, at her sister’s wedding in the end of the book, her mother says to her “don’t worry about catching the bouquet, you won’t be needing it”. This girl spent most of the book on some diet or going to the gym, stressing and obsessing about her next visit home because she knew her father would find fault with her appearance. No amount of weight loss was noticed. Instead the focus would be shifted. Nothing was ever good enough. Finally she found someone who loved her for her, for who she was and what she looked like. Someone who saw through the appearance to her soul and fell in love with her. Of course, her parents absolutely couldn’t believe that he could love someone of her size. This poor girl had no love for herself and she was just looking for love. She just wanted to be accepted for what and who she is.

Are you kidding me?

I know this is fiction. I get that it’s fake but what the hell kind of book is this? Danielle Steel is one of my most favorite writers. I fell in love with her for her romance novels because the characters in her book love so hard, it’s easy to get lost in the “smut” and it flows. Jewels is my all-time most favorite book. I have both the paper copy and e-copy and I still read it once or twice a year.

But this book? Why, Danielle? Why?

When I found out I was having a daughter, I was absolutely terrified. Growing up, I was always this skinny, nobby-kneed child that could eat anything she wanted and stay thin and tan. Then I legitimately prayed for boobs and an ass and, POOF! 10th grade hit and I got both. With vengeance. Then came the body image issues. Worrying if my boyfriend thought I was too fat. Wondering if he only wanted to be with me because I had big boobs. Worrying that the size 10 in my jeans would make people make fun of me.

These issues continued and when I left for Basic Training, I was thrilled to lose 23 lbs. I was toned and in shape. But then came the horrid shipboard food and I stopped working out and I gained weight back. A lot of weight. Then came the struggle of losing and gaining. My weight was used against me at one unit and I was put on the weight program. I fought my ass off (no pun intended) and I got down to the weight the CG thought I should be.

Then I got pregnant.

I said, Fuck it, I’m doing what I need to to grow a healthy baby. I gained 40 lbs and now I’m fighting to get the weight off.

A friend of mine presented me with this article

I work so hard, every single day, to tell my daughter how beautiful she is. To tell her that she is an amazing person and she can achieve anything she wants to. It kills me to know that she might, one day, ever question herself and think that she isn’t good enough. This is one thing dads often don’t understand. I was talking to E the other night and we were discussing this very topic. He said “we’ll just have to tell her and teach her”. I told him “think of the girls you’ve slept with. Why did you sleep with them?”

Now, this is a topic we’ve discussed before, we’re married. We know pretty much everything there is to know about one another so I was comfortable asking this question.

His reply “because I wanted to have sex” and then I asked “and why did they sleep with you?”

He didn’t quite understand that they quite possibly slept with him because they wanted to be loved.

High school aged girls, these days, often think they need to be sexual to be loved and accepted. The “sexting”, sending nude pics of themselves to boys, engaging in acts that they definitely shouldn’t be engaging in. They just want to be loved and they think this is the way to do it.

I will work my ass off to see that my daughter isn’t one of those girls.

I want my daughter to know that not only is she special to E and I, but that she deserves the world and if someone isn’t willing to give that to her without strings attached, then they aren’t good enough for her. I pray that I don’t pass my body image issues down to her and make her because conscious of how hard I work to keep the weight off. Obviously I won’t allow her to become a couch potato and eat cheetos all day long but I hope, when the time comes, I can find a happy medium and help her along the way so that she knows she is loved and she can love herself.

rachelkern152

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