Yoga Mom: Fact or Fiction

I worry a lot about what other people think. Most people tell me I shouldn't do this....but I do. And I realize it is because I make assumptions about others, often crediting them with things they didn't do or making them out to be people they are not. It is like being judgemental but not in the typical negative way.

For instance, one of my dark secrets is that I drop The Cowboy off for pre-school in less than appropriate attire...mine, not his. Oh sure, I look normal as I jump out, hand The Cowboy off to his teacher and hustle back behind the wheel. But under that parka is the rest of the story. From toe up: shoes, no socks, yesterday's jeans, my pj shirt, no bra. I brush my teeth but only because they cannot be hidden under a stocking cap. My giant bug-eye sunglasses hide that I have not put my face on. I am a royal mess at best.

I worry each day that something will happen and I will need to go inside the school. How long could I sit in the director's office with my winter coat and stocking cap on before I pass out from overheating? Would I look like I was nursing a hangover or hiding a black eye if I wore my shades inside? What would people think?

Not that I really find my dropping off outfit really that bad, certainly there are a few other moms in similar get-ups, but I judge myself against a handful of moms who I think must be featured in some I Heart Momming Magazine. They drive the squeaky clean SUVs; I drive one too but it's hard to tell it's an SUV under all of that dirt. They have happy laughing kids; I have those too except mine are mad and crying. They have awesome trendy clothes; I do too if it were still 1996. So you can see why it's so easy for them to judge me.

Yesterday my system of measuring up and crediting others was rocked to the core. The leader of the Wanna-Be Moms (named not because they're faking being moms but because I wanna-be as cool as them) hopped out of her 2017 Suburban for pick-up. It was 11:20 in the morning and she had on her yoga gear. Certainly she had just finished a private session with a ridiculously attractive yoga guy.

As the teacher handed Yoga Mom her son she said, "Oh, how was yoga?"

Yoga Mom turned beat red and laughed, "I know it's almost lunch but I'm still in my pajamas. It's been one of those days." She buckled her son and practically peeled out as she left the school. I had witnessed her embarrassment. The curtain had been pulled back from the mystical Wizard of Oz.

So Yoga Mom is really Pajama Mom. And since each day at pick-up I've noted her yoga attire, that means this is not "one of those days" but really it's her everyday. Hmmmm. Perhaps this means Yoga Mom has watched me in the mornings at drop-off and felt envious of the fact I was already dressed for the day. Except I wasn't. I too was Pajama Mom.

Now it seems I have to be a little easier on myself. If I want to weigh myself against the other moms (and really, I shouldn't) I need to cut myself some slack. They are hacking through their days the same as the rest of us. We can all find things about ourselves to get hung up on, and finding another mom who is succeeding in that area somehow makes us feel right. See....see, I knew I was screwing up....look at that mom, she's so__________. But maybe instead of making fake success stories for other moms we should create our own. Or at least accept that what we're doing and how we are surviving is okay. We're all in the same boat, even if we're not all Pajama Mom.

The Game of the Name

I think there is a lot behind a name. It is not really that I pay attention to the meaning of a name, but rather that a name takes someone from being just another unknown to being a very specific person. That is precisely why I named each of my kiddos before they were born. I felt more bonded to them than if I had spent nine months talking about "The Baby" or "It". But of course there were some hiccups.

First, we did not find out the gender with our first born. Therefore, we needed a gender-neutral name. When I was little, my dad lovingly referred to me as Munchkin Breath. And much like the quandary of The Purple People Eater (did IT eat only purple people, or was IT purple and ate all different kinds of people?) my dad's nickname left me to wonder if my breath smelled of Munchkins because I was one and this would be expected, or was I some kind of Munchkin Eater who dreamed of dining in Oz. I never did figure it out. But to this day I smile when in my head I can hear my dad's voice calling, "Hey, Munchkin Breath". So I wanted my first born to share in that delight and from the start she has been The Munchkin.

Time to Grow

Ignore for a moment the fact I have told you I have a black thumb, and think about the following:

You've planted a garden. Thinking of what you wanted to grow, you threw some seeds in the ground. But you didn't take the time to prepare the soil, or even find the right kind of seeds. As time passed you didn't water the garden often. The few times you went out to weed you were unable to tell the plants you wanted from the plants you didn't. As the growing season drew to an end you looked over your garden in dismay. The bounty you had anticipated was not there. The little effort you gave produced little results.

This passive way of gardening produces little, as does a passive approach to managing your finances. It can seem pointless at times to worry over every single penny in and out of your hands but failing to do so ensures that your financial dreams will be as disappointing as the garden mentioned above.

5-on-5: What I want to be, Favorite quotes and sayings, Favorite smells, Things I'd like to learn, Things I am afraid of

1. RS: What did you want to be when you grew up? Since I still think I have a lot of growing up to do, I am changing this to the present tense: what do I want to be when I grow up:
          Veterinarian
          Chef
          Surgeon
          Writer
          Epidemiologist

Motivation for the Month of the Closets

We've past the halfway point of the month. How can that be? Days drag on and on but weeks fly by and months are barely noticeable. So is life, I guess.

With just two weeks left in the Month of the Closets (http://thewingmom.blogspot.com/p/january-skeletons-out-of-closets.html) I thought I would share how my closet clean-out is going. There has literally been blood, sweat and tears. And you should know that I am one of those people who do not misuse the term literally. These things really happened: I bled, I sweat and I admit, I cried a little. The tears though were of course spurred by finding nostalgic items in my children's closets.

5-on-5: Things I do well, The last five books I've read, Places I want to see, Things I am really bad at but won't quit, Simple pleasures

Phew, just barely making it under the wire for my Sunday post of 5-on-5. Wait, what? It's Monday?! Can't be, my whole family was home today. Really, Monday? Oh man, sorry. As a SAHM I can only tell the days of the week by who is home or if they aren't home, where they need to go; a legal holiday really throws me off. So here we go, a day late:

A New Way to Help Pepper Your Plate

Thanks to an old golfing buddy and high school friend, I have learned about a site that I think is about to be my new fav:

The Pepper Plate
www.pepperplate.com

I just joined yesterday (and it was free) so I cannot give a thorough rundown of all the features. However, I can share what made me fall in love and perhaps you will fall too.

Kids live in your house??

One of the greatest bits of mommy advice I have ever received came from my dear friend Daisy (www.oncetwicethreetimesamommy.blogspot.com).

We had gotten our families together despite the two state gap. This was pre-Ladybug but it still meant the kids outnumbered the grown-ups, five to four. It was a great visit; I love being in Daisy's home. We had plans for a family they knew from college to bring their kids and come join the craziness for dinner that night. Just one little hiccup, one of Daisy's kiddos got sick.

While Daisy hauled her little Peach into the urgent care, I set to entertaining the remaining four kids and the dads, well, they worked together at watching the smoker make our dinner. Boys will be boys.

Making the Most of the Meal

I love food. Let me start over. I love real food. The food that is rich, decadent, tantalizing and all of the words the foodie mags use. All of the other stuff that people eat, and kids seem to love, is just okay. And since I share my meals with children I am stuck most of the time eating the just okay stuff but it doesn't mean I don't try and get more out of our time at the table.

Good nutrition, good manners and a good time can all be had at the same table.

I've shared the shift changes of our breakfast table and the madness of our lunches. But what about our dinners? The time when The Munchkin and my husband, The Farmer, leave their out-in-the-real-world-lives and return to our house.

It's Called Extreme for a Reason

I have yet to actually see the show, Extreme Couponing, but I have seen tidbits on the concept on other programs. At first I watched in excitement, what did they mean by 'extreme'? Then I watched in horror as these people filled their homes with things they didn't need, didn't want and probably wouldn't use. And it was all in the name of saving money. But wait, if you don't need, want or use the product isn't it still a waste, regardless of price? In my book, yes. So here is how I coupon.

1. I have my favorite brands; some are the off-brand, others are the dreaded name brands. Perhaps it is the scent of the toilet cleaner, the feel of the dish soap on my poor old hands or how the laundry detergent doesn't make the kiddos breakout in a rash. No matter reason, I know there are a lot of items that I won't stray from the three or four kinds I call tried and true. That does not mean that I always pay top dollar for these. In fact, I never pay full price for them. Sure a coupon can be hard to come by for us non-extreme couponers. But I know I need, want and use these particular products, so when they are on sale I buy all I can. Sometimes the store has a limit, that's fine. But believe me, if there is no limit I will buy all that is on the shelf.....and sometimes then ask if there are more in the back.

5-on-5: Movies, Books, Songs, Foods, Places I've Been

It's Sunday, that means it is time for a little 5-on-5. I don't mean basketball.

Each Sunday I'll give you my top five answers on a list of five topics. As we play along each week send me your suggestions for the list of topics.

So here we go:

Enough is Enough, Sometimes It's Too Much

How much is enough? That's a tough question and it really depends on what you are talking about. Gorgonzola cheese? Never enough. Worn-out holed-up socks? Even one is too much.

So let's think about some of the less obvious ones. Sippy cups and bottles. Whoa. This is gonna get deep fast!

When my youngest was still of the cooing, bottle age I had a lot of bottles. And I mean a lot. Being as thrifty (okay, cheap) as I am, I hit every garage sale in our 'hood the summer before she arrived. And at each one I bought bottles; but really for pennies on the dollar who could pass them up?! I boiled them several times and bought all new nipples. By the time fall rolled around I had a brand-new baby and seriously 40+ bottles. I thought I was set.

Secrets of Sanity

I hear it a lot; people ask me how I get it all done each day. And I answer them honestly, I don't. Very little in my house is done on a daily basis. Sure there is the obvious like dressing, brushing teeth and eating (lots of eating) but as for the household chores, very few make the cut as a daily chore.

That being said, I should explain that I have sacrificed the glory of the "Everything's Done" moment to fight off the horrors of the "Nothing's Done" moment. I run the house on a weekly basis. But let's start with the daily items.

1. Dishes - and I mean all of them! Whether it means running the dishwasher half-full (ha, yeah right!) or running it twice, at one point during the day I wash every single dirty dish. A little confession here, I leave my supper dishes overnight. Yep, they see the sunrise. But it means that post-dinner I get family time. We play and read books. I share in their giggles instead of overhearing them from my post in the kitchen. But the following morning by 9 there is not a dirty dish to be found not even from that morning's breakfast.

Lunch-styles of the Wrecked and Famished

Maybe lunch goes differently at your house, and for your sanity I truly hope it does. Lunch time at our house is chaos at best. To fully understand this we have to back all the way up to breakfast.

My oldest daughter, The Munchkin (more on this nickname later), eats breakfast at 7:10. This is the precise moment during her getting ready routine that she is hungry and has not yet brushed her teeth. I prefer to eat with clean chompers, she doesn't like the minty taste to interfere with her food. To each their own.

Next to the table is the middle child, the only boy in the family, The Cowboy (again, nickname history coming soon). Being a toddler he "has" to help make his breakfast. This really means he wants to push a chair over to the counter and watch you make his food. It's not worth splitting hairs. But by the time we have worked together and his oatmeal is ready it is nearing 7:20.