I'm Less Important Than Everyone Else

I have always felt like my needs/wants/desires have been less important than anyone else's.

No, really.

Kind of odd for an only child, wouldn't you say? (Only children are generally characterized as a bit on the "it's all about me" side.)

Marrying the man I did doesn't help.

Losing Myself

I feel like I'm losing who I had been becoming before my husband got so much sicker.

I was an insecure young adult. I met Mark when I was 20 years old and was that clingy girlfriend. In my defense, I had recently become visually impaired and had just left home. Also, my inner child.

Marriage, babies, my 30s, blogging, and some therapy later, I felt like I was finally coming into my own. I felt I had gotten to know myself pretty well. Just Jennifer (my former blog name). The Me I am aside from The Carer of All Things.

Besides WifeMomCaregiver, I am someone who likes to write a blog, make things with yarn, go for walks, watch TV, listen to books and hang out with friends.

Being Discreet at Target

I first wrote about my occasional light bladder leakage and Always Discreet almost nine months ago.

Since then I have been relieved to have this product on hand in my bathroom.

Relieved. Ha.

Because, it doesn't appear that this is a problem that will just magically go away. In fact, sometimes I can't strain my lower abdominal muscles even a little bit without a something escaping.

Ahem.

6 Signs You Might Need a Good GNO

GNO = Girl's Night Out.

I got to get together with my girlfriends last week. It was for one of their birthdays.

The last time I had gotten together with all of them was for another one's birthday back in July.

That is way too long to go between Girl's Nights! Sad thing is, I had only missed ONE night when we were all supposed to hang out, so it's not like they were partying without me.

Ugh: Life.

Women need other women. No matter how much we love our significant others, children or extended family, girlfriends are a necessity. There are things that only they can understand and love you through.

So anyway, I got to thinking about how I know it's time. How I know it's been quite long enough, thank you, and I NEED to see my girls.

And because I'm super thoughtful, I will include HOW to make it happen.

BOOM.

I've Had Two Babies and I'm 40...so LBL Happens

LBL = light bladder leakage.

That's right, I'm talking about pee.

You know, we are born unable to control our bladders....and then GIVING BIRTH lessons the control we worked so hard at age two or three to gain!

Full circle? Irony? Cruel joke?

Whatever it is, it's really darn annoying.

I promise you, I have done my share of kegel exercises. And I know I'm not alone in this. I think I have, like, one friend who claims to not have this issue even after having four babies.

I think she's lying.

5 Little Ways I Take Time for Myself

I have been asked about how I could possibly find time for myself with all I have on my plate as a mother, wife and caregiver.

I pointed this out in my first Ask Jen post, but I'll just say again, I'm not aiming for any sort of perfect. I'm not going to cry in my Cheerios if something doesn't get done.

In fact, I must admit I completely forgot about my son's school picture day earlier this month. The school sent home the order form and I fully intended to place an order online beforehand and send AJ to school looking sharp. But because I spaced it (the order form got lost under other papers and I didn't write it on the calendar), he wore some graphic tee and probably shorts that day.

That's a bummer, but it's not the end of the world. I got some nice pictures of him last year, and I can try again next year.

I may not be campaigning for the Perfection of Womanhood Award, but we all know it's a pretty universal female trait to think of ourselves last. We are natural nurturers.

Ask Jen: On Motherhood, Caregiving and Time Off

Reader Question

Asked by Peggy, a fan of the Dancing in the Rain Facebook page: How do you deal with being mom, wife, caretaker, etc, with little to no time for yourself?

My Answer

I saw this on Facebook several months ago:

To which one person replied, "Not if you are a mom!"

It kind of annoyed me.

The View From Here: Liminal Space

For this week's View I bring you someone whom I easily liked very shortly after discovering her blog. She has this habit of saying "here's the thing..." which is something I often say as well.

In fact, "Here's the Thing" used to be the name of her blog.

Oh, "she" is Kenya.

You'll get the rest of the skinny on her down below.

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Liminal Space

I’m in a liminal space right now, the threshold of what my life is and what I want it to be.

The View From Here: My Journey Toward Breast Reduction

Wow you guys, I almost blew it.

I failed to get someone scheduled to contribute this week's View ahead of time.

The other weeks of the month are covered.

I blame the cruise.

Thankfully, when you send out a plea for help to a group of bloggers, someone is likely to respond.

It's worked out kind of perfectly, actually.

Below is a very honest and personal piece from Elizabeth of Rocks, No Salt Mommy who is having breast reduction surgery TODAY.

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More Than a Physical Change: My Journey Toward Breast Reduction

I want to be a rectangle.

That’s the thought I had every morning in high school as I stepped out of the shower and saw my reflection in the wall-to-wall mirror of my childhood bathroom. A rectangle. You know, the body type that models have. No hips. No breasts. No curves. A rectangle.

But I was far from a rectangle. My silhouette was almost a perfect hourglass. I had hips. I had breasts. And boy, did I have curves. My teenage body was uncomfortably developed and I knew it. I felt it every day as I got dressed for school and had to worry about whether horizontal stripes would be malformed across my DD breasts. I felt the embarrassment of watching my group video in Zoology class as I was enlarged on the screen and my breasts stretched apart the ribbing of the Gap tank top I wore the day we filmed.

I especially felt it after a friend got some film developed (this was the ‘90s, after all) and I came across a group shot of us girlfriends. I had jumped into the photo at the last minute and was sort of lying across the other girls’ laps, so I was in the forefront of the frame. My choice outfit that night was a white half-zip sweatshirt (hooray for ‘90s clothes!) that was tight across my chest. The angle of the photo, the white of the sweatshirt, and my posing position made my breasts stand out as basically the only thing in the picture. Thank goodness Facebook wasn’t around back then because I would have been humiliated if that photo had made the rounds.

As much as I disliked my breasts, high school boys liked them immensely. I still get comments on Facebook from high school boyfriends about my breasts. I can’t say that I hated the attention when I was younger. I liked having a feature that made me stand out from the sea of girls roaming the halls. But that was just one aspect of having big breasts, and I played it off jokingly many times when my double-Ds came up in conversation. In private, I wished for nothing more than small breasts and narrow hips. The rectangle.

It was in private that my mom duct-taped my breasts before a dance competition. It was in private that I struggled with my backless dress for senior prom when my stick-on bra failed to hold up the girls. It was in private that I saw myself dancing on video and realized I could no longer wear bras without underwire. It was also in private that I cried when I made the cheerleading squad and none of the tops from the cheer closet would fit my chest so a new one had to be special ordered. Those were the moments that made me wish away my hourglass figure.

I was not obese. I was not round. I was simply curvy. I wore size 6 jeans and large or extra-large tops. I always had to buy swimsuits that came in separate pieces because one size would never suffice for both top and bottom. Oh, and those swimsuit tops always had to be a halter with a tie behind the neck in order to pull up my breasts. I knew the meaning of needing support long before most of my friends even started wearing real bras.

And all of this was before I was 20. Before I had children. Before I gained 40 pounds and gave birth. Before I breastfed two children for a combined 19 months.

With a 3 year-old and a 1 year-old, I have now found myself truly despising my breasts. I thought I hated them back when I was in high school, but I had no idea how much they would haunt me in my 30s. I have lost almost 30 of those 40 pounds, and I’m still bulging out of my DDD bras. Yes. DDD.

I can no longer wear button-up shirts, even with a camisole underneath and the top few buttons unbuttoned. My breasts simply pour out. I can no longer wear t-shirts that are not made of stretchy knit because my breasts are too tight across the thick cotton fabric. I find myself slouching as I type, eat, drive, and walk because the weight of my chest is overwhelming at times. I struggle with where to place the seatbelt across my breasts. And worst of all, I’ve basically had to stop shopping at regular stores because shirts just don’t fit me. I tried plus-size stores, but those shirts are too big.

I saw an episode of What Not To Wear featuring a big-busted woman and they gave her the advice of shopping at plus-sized stores, buying shirts to fit her chest and then taking them to get tailored to fit her waist. I’ve seriously considered that, but who wants to do that for the rest of her life?? I want to be able to grab a shirt off the rack at the mall and know it’s going to fit from top to bottom when I get it home. I’m ready to live that life.

I no longer wish for that rectangle. I’ve grown enough emotionally to accept this curvy figure I was given. I realize we can’t change our body type, so I’ve embraced my curves and I’m a proud hourglass these days. But, I cannot embrace these breasts. I cannot live like this any longer. I’ve wasted enough tears and years on these DDDs.

My mom says she remembers me discussing breast reduction before I even graduated high school. So, today I’m finally doing it. They’re going away. I’m saying goodbye to my breasts in a very invasive, permanent way. Today I go in for my breast reduction.

I’m finished having children. I’m finished breastfeeding. I’m ready for the next stage of my breasts. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous, but the prospect of finally having a body I’m comfortable in outweighs my fears.

So, box up the huge bras. Break out the swimsuits. Here’s to my first summer of strappy dresses!

__________

I knew a girl in the same boat as Elizabeth in 6th grade. She looked like a full-grown adult, but was only 11 years old. Of course at the time I felt envy over how developed she already was, even though I heard and saw the teasing she got, especially from boys. I know now that it wasn't cool.

I think Elizabeth is very brave to share this with us, so leave her a nice comment, and then go learn more about her at her:

Blog - Twitter - Pinterest

**If you are interested in contributing YOUR View, please go HERE**

I Am Fierce

Whatever fierceness I have in me comes from Love.

I am loved fiercely, and I love fiercely in return.

I've written ad nauseam about my PTSD, anger, fears and worries as regards Mark's last major health crisis (or his health in general). Those are the things I'm not proud of, that I struggle with and have to work through.

But there was something else. Something I had forgotten about, or failed to see or was overshadowed by the fear, until an email popped into my inbox.

It asked if there was a time when I was fierce. And I realized that, yeah, there absolutely was.

The most fierce I've ever had to be was when doctors told me I should prepare for the possibility that my husband was dying.

I was fierce when I had to face my children and answer their questions about their dad.

I was fierce while juggling family members.

I was fierce when pushing for information from hospital staff.

I was fierce when I absolutely had to focus on my own needs.

I had to muster up fierceness when I was forced to tell my husband the doctors thought he might be dying.

Mark and I were both fierce when signing living will/power of attorney papers.

I was fierce by insisting my husband should go home.

I was fierce when letting the tears flow.

FACING MY WORST FEAR made me fierce!

In the moments, I just did these things. At the time, I could not see the fierceness in my actions.

Even though I nearly burst into tears after every few sentences writing this, I see now how I was fierce. I see now that I still am.

I am sharing this with you as part of The Traveling Blue Wig Project. It is to spread the word about the Clever Girls Collective's Fierce Fund, which is seeking to donate $20,000 in support of nonprofit initiatives that celebrate, encourage, and elevate women and girls.

But they need YOUR help! There are three causes the Clever Girls want your help in choosing from: CoachArt, Dress for Success and Girls Who Code. You have until next Monday, October 21, 2013 to get your vote in.

Do you have a story of a time you were Fierce?

Tell me about it, and then go vote to support women and girls.

Visit the #FierceFund to learn more about this girl-power project!

This one time when I went camping

It was the summer of 1987, between my 7th and 8th grade school years. I was 13. The same age my daughter is now.

My mom, step-dad and I went to Yosemite. Have you ever been? It's an awe-inspiring place. Massive monoliths, cascading waterfalls and green valleys. Gorgeous!

We set up camp in a spacious site. I had my own small tent. It made me feel cool, like I was especially mature, and of course not afraid to sleep by myself in the woods.

We spent several days there; the better part of a week, I'm sure.

Lots of hikes, picnics and photo opps....

Until one day, right before a hike, my tummy hurt a little. I went to the bathroom and thought maybe there was a spot of something in my underwear. Not wanting to jump to conclusions, I decided not to say anything yet.

We hiked and headed back to our campsite for dinner. After cleaning up and putting everything away so bears couldn't get to it, my mom and I headed to the bathroom.

This time I noticed more of something in my underwear.

"Uh, mom....?" I called. "I kinda need you to see this."

I let her into my stall and she looked. "Oh! You started your period."

"Really? Is that really what it is?", I asked, incredulously.

"Looks that way to me!", she confirmed.

She told me she'd run and get me a clean pair of underwear. I sat there on the toilet processing this little turn of events.

I got my period!

OMG, I can't believe I started my period while camping, when I don't have anything!

Buoyed by clean underwear and some wadded up toilet paper my mom and I walked back to the campsite. We were sitting around the fire awhile later when my mom had a revelation: "Jennifer can't sleep by herself tonight, a bear might smell her!"

OH. MY. GOD.

"Mom!!", I wailed.

But she was adamant. I had to sleep in their tent for protection from period sniffing bears.

I did. No bears got me. I survived. Barely.







I was prompted to tell this story by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop.

The Phases of a Woman's Menstrual Cycle Through the Years

So this might be a bit TMI but we're all adults here so we can handle it. Besides, it's not as if we haven't been subject to tampon commercials for as long as we can remember.

See, I have had the good fortune of NOT having my period for quite a few years due to the use of an IUD. But about a year ago I had to have said IUD removed and, wouldn't ya know it? My period returned.

As if nothing ever happened. It was all, "Oh hey Jen, long time no see! You didn't call or write, but don't worry, I won't hold it against you. We can pick up right where we left off!"

I think it's safe to say women have a love/hate relationship with their "Aunt Flo".

Am I right, ladies?

We are eager for it or we dread it. It's easy or it's the WORST. THING. EVER. I have known women who ought not leave their houses for at least the first two days of their period, and others who barely notice it at all.

The hormones involved screw with our feelings, emotions and dietary habits. You can be eating the healthiest foods possible but when your period is looming it's all about the chocolate. And the french fries. Oh! What about french fries dipped in a chocolate milkshake??

So I got to thinking about how our periods effect our lives over the years and came up with 15 stages of menstruation....

1. OMG I'm 13 and I haven't started yet! I'm such a loser! When I get it, I'll be a WOMAN!

2. *skipping down the hall....I finally got my period. I feel so grown up. NOW I'm a WOMAN!

3. Can everyone tell I'm on my period? Gross.

4. I need to go home from school because these cramps are the worst.

5. Alright, using pads feels like wearing diapers. Time to try tampons.

6. *after losing virginity.....Please don't let me get pregnant. Please don't let me get pregnant. *period arrives....Oh thank GOD!

7. *goes on the birth control pill....This is great! These control WHEN I get my period and it's not as bad (and I won't get pregnant). Best invention EVER!

8. Fuck you and your PMS jokes! Jerks! No, I am NOT "on the rag", maybe I just feel like being a bitch! (Being a girl is such a pain.)

9. *ready to have a baby.....Please let me get pregnant. Please let me get pregnant.

10. *pregnancy....no period for 9 months AND I can eat more? This is fantastic!

11. I won't get my period during breastfeeding either? That's a neat trick!

12. Hey, I'm a mom now. I can get that cool IUD that might stop my period. Imma do that!

13. *wants to get pregnant again...Arg, periods. Please let me get pregnant. Please let me get pregnant.

14. So I'm done have babies but now my insurance won't cover the IUD, so I'm stuck with the Pill and have to get periods even though I have NO INTENTION of getting pregnant EVER AGAIN. How is this fair?

15. Menopause can come any time now. Truly. (Will probably hate menopause.)

I'm at 14-15. Where are you at?

Purse Parts

Girls and their purses.

I'm kind of funny about the color of mine and the season it is. I just cannot carry a black purse in the spring and summer. Cannot do it! Like, April first is my cut off date for black purses.

I decided grey might work in any season (and I've been wearing a lot of grey) so I commissioned my bestie to knit me a grey purse for Christmas. What? I knew what I wanted so I asked for it. Problem is, she had to knit or crochet ALL THE THINGS for Christmas gifts so she didn't finish the strap of my purse. I'm still waiting.....sniff.

If you know me you know I too knit and crochet, so why didn't I just make myself a purse? Because my friend is BETTER than me. Truth. She also knows how to fiddle with fabric, which means my purse gets a lining, which is even better!

So what do I carry around in my purse? I'm glad you asked! Oh, you didn't ask? Well you should have, because what a woman carries in her purse says a lot about her.

10 Items In My Purse

1. Wallet - of course

2. Restaurant wet wipe - they come in handy

3. Lotion

4. Andes mints

5. Little magnifier

6. Chap stick

7. Pictures of my kids when they were little

8. Gift cards yet to spend

9. Small hairbrush

10. Angel HOPE worry stone

My good friend Carin gave this to me to be something to focus on when Mark was in the hospital.
I knew it was in my purse, but I had completely forgotten that HOPE was stamped on the back.
Which is the word I chose for 2013, and just added to my header.

There are a few other items, like keys, Purel and a pen, and of course I always slip my phone in. My husband and kids often ask me to carry things for them. Oh, and I tend to collect many a receipt, much to my dismay. I carry it all in the smallest purse possible. No giant mom bag for me!


Linked with Monday Listicles.

What Men Really Want

I have it on good authority (not naming my sources) that what a man would really love to have access to is.....

A Big Book of Vaginas.

I kid you not, like an actual large, leather-bound catalog of sorts.

They just want to see All The Vaginas.

(And All The Boobies.)

It's true!

Doesn't matter that they all look basically the same.

Sure, you can trim them up in various fashions....

You can even decorate them with piercings or vajazzling.

(No pictures, please.)

Ouch! No thank you.

But really, if you've seen one vagina.....

I would like to point out that I think it's fairly safe to say that there aren't any women pining for a Big Book of Penises.

Just sayin'.

I am not selfish.

We women love and nurture and care. It's part of our inherent nature.

Not that men don't. But there is a clear difference. In my 38 1/2 years on this planet I've noticed this fact: women carry an abundance of guilt, where men do not. Men have no problem taking care of their own needs without feeling guilty about it. I'm pretty sure that all too often sometimes we women resent them for it.

Mothers love and nurture and care. For others. Notsomuch for ourselves.

The simple act of getting a haircut can feel like an indulgence.

At night after the kids are tucked into bed, we pull out our hidden stashes of chocolate, grab a glass of red wine and tweet or facebook that we're enjoying them and do not feel guilty about it, dammit!

Yet we still do. Deep down.

Guilt is the bane of our existence.

We rationalize that we're "giving up" our own needs for the needs of the "greater good", which makes us feel like we're doing the right thing, not being selfish. Of course often financial concerns require prioritizing the needs of the family. Believe me, I know this well.

BUT, and it's a big BUT, the things that don't cost money, shouldn't have to be put on the back-burner.

Things like alone time, hot baths, getting out for a walk to clear your head, taking a nap, not doing the dishes just one freaking day, letting your kids eat cereal for dinner once in awhile, read a book, do a craft or taking some time to chat with a girlfriend.

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I've come to what I now believe is one of the so-called "change of life" milestones: when all your children are in full-time school. Granted, this may not affect working moms as much as those who stay at home.....although....just the savings on day care must be fantastic.....

I don't think I'm being too dramatic when I say this has been huge for me. In good ways and bad. or rather, positives and negatives. I shall focus on the positives for the purpose of this post.

It is now my time to become fully ME. The title of my blog has never been more apropos. Now is the time when I can have the best of both worlds. I can, dare I say, have my cake and eat it to.

I will always be a mother. I am still a wife. I utterly adore my family. they will always come first in my heart. I already feel like a better mom. I look forward to my kids coming home each day and show them more patience.

Now though, I have some freedom to explore the other parts of me.....wait for it.....without feeling like it's selfish.

To take better care of my health, both physical and mental. To keep plugging along this blogging journey and sift through the possibilities therein. To be creative. To maybe figure-out-how-to-get-some-new-glasses-especially-since-one-of-my-nose-pieces-just-broke-off. To feel like cooking more (I already do). To maybe become a little more independent. And for gosh sakes, to possibly RELAX a little...??

It's not selfish. It's fair. I'm not selfish. It's my turn.

The Mom (Woman) Pledge

The Mom Pledge

I am proud to be a mom. I will conduct myself with integrity in all my online activities. I can lead by example.

I pledge to treat my fellow moms with respect. I will acknowledge that there is no one, "right" way to be a good Mom. Each woman makes the choices best for her family.

I believe a healthy dialogue on important issues is a good thing. I will welcome differing opinions when offered in a respectful, non-judgmental manner. And will treat those who do so in kind.

I stand up against cyber bullying. My online space reflects who I am and what I believe in. I will not tolerate comments that are rude, condescending or disrespectful.

I refuse to give those who attack a platform. I will remove their remarks with no mention or response. I can take control.

I want to see moms work together to build one another up, not tear each other down. Words can be used as weapons. I will not engage in that behavior.

I affirm that we are a community. As a member, I will strive to foster goodwill among moms. Together, we can make a difference.

* * * * *

"There seems to be no end to the topics that can generate controversy. A recent poll of Mom bloggers revealed 76% had experienced or witnessed cyber bullying between moms on online."

You know, I think this is a great idea, a great pledge to take, a great word to spread.

But it shouldn't even be an issue!

Cyber bullying of moms?

Really, people?

Shame on anyone who picks on a mother.  Extra shame on a mom who picks on a fellow mom.

In my 11 years as a mom I have learned that each and every one of us is doing the best we can with what we've got.  We ALL love our kids.  We ALL want the best for them.

There is no argument about that.

Anything else we could argue about, is all personal choice and opinion.  And you can't tell people how to feel, what to value, what you think they should be doing.  Even if someone asks your advice, still the only thing you can offer is your personal opinion.  The other person doesn't have to agree.

Is that annoying?  I know, right?  But....

We should be kind, caring and compassionate enough to have healthy debates that don't denegrate one another.

I know it's frustrating when you don't agree with something someone's doing.  I get frustrated all the bloody time (hence Fantasy Eff Off Fridays)!  Venting is healthy. Attacking is not.  We are ultimately only responsible for our own actions, our own stuff.

And we are responsible for what we put out there.

"Life is like a boomerang; what you give, you get back."

If we want support, we need to give it.  If we want understanding, we need to give it.

Moms really need these things.

Women in general need these things.

Why do you think there are so many women/mom bloggers?

We should support and try to understand one another EVERY DAY.

No jealousy, spite, conceit or negativity.

I hope, here in my personal Internet space, that I am putting out positive energy more than I'm not.  I hope that my posts make people smile. When I do write about sad or difficult things, my hope is that I will be given support and understanding.  I also hope I am succeeding in giving these things to others.

The last thing any of us needs to do is tear another woman down.  We do enough of that to ourselves.

"There is a special place in hell for women who do not help other women."

~Madeleine K. Albright

We say we want strong female relationships, yet we so often do things to undermine them.  Our busy lives, obligations, assumptions and insecurities all get in the way.  I'm guilty of it.  Perhaps you are too.  We can always try harder.  Just be real, honest, kind and loving, and hopefully the rest will take care of itself.

So here's to you, my fellow moms, fellow women!

What I Like About Me

There’s a little something that seems to be spreading through the blogosphere which I found at Ciao Mom’s site. This little something has people listing all the things they like about themselves.

Yes, apparently we CAN actually LIKE things about ourselves.

Kind of a revelation, right?

So, I think I’m going to use categories, because I’m just not real good at being random.

What I like about me - Physically

My hands and wrists, and feet and ankles - They are nicely shaped and sized. A jeweler once told me I have “jewelry store hands” I guess because I wear the stock ring size.

The color of my lips - A very nice shade of pink.

My breasts - Mostly (could be more round). They are a generous size without being too big (full C) and breastfeeding didn’t affect them much. I always hear about breasts deflating to a smaller size after nursing, but mine didn’t.

My body shape - I’m not a “perfect” 36-24-36, but I do have an hourglass figure, meaning my bust and hips measure pretty much the same, and my waist is smaller. So I’m not top heavy nor bottom heavy. My weight is distributed well.

I have blue eyes - but that’s all I like about my eyes because they don’t work right!

What I like about me - Personality

Good sense of humor - I love British humor, stand-up comedy, sarcasm, quirky humor, totally inappropriate and wrong…..I’m not easily offended. Politics, race, religion, men, women, sex are all fair game. And I can laugh at myself. My husband taught me how to have fun at the hospital. Children are a riot!

Open-minded - The older I get the less I judge, and I’ve found the less I judge the happier I am. Each and every one of us is just a human being doing our best making lives for ourselves. Well, except for murderers. They’re not doing their best. But even then, I have a hard time with the idea that bad deeds can’t ever be forgiven. The human heart is limitless. I will always listen to another’s point of view.

Authentic - My life is an open book (hence all this blogging I do). I don’t do or say anything I don’t really want to, unless I absolutely have to. Along with being authentic I have had to learn tact, however. I wear my heart on my sleeve. It’s very hard for me to hide how I feel. This isn’t always easy, and I’ve gotten into trouble because of it. But at the end of the day, it’s still something I like about myself.

Attitude - I am generally content, positive and grateful. Even if I’m struggling with something, I’m not all “everything sucks” or “I might as well just give up”. There’s always something to be learned, the grass is not always greener and it could probably be worse.

Love - I am a really loving wife and mother. I mean, they still drive me crazy sometimes, but my husband and kids know I love them with all my heart.

What I like about me - Skills

Touch typing - I learned how to touch type in high school and I do it pretty well. I can’t imagine not. Especially with my eye problems. Yeah, I think touch typing was meant to be.

Great with dates - I can remember the dates of so many things. It’s crazy! I can even remember some of my friends’ dates better than they can. Now I’m talking special occasions here, not the date of my husband’s next doctor appointment.

Crafts - I can scrapbook, makes cards and knit! I’ve also helped my daughter put together a couple of science projects.  Does that count?

Common sense and logic - I may be a jumble of complicated emotions, but they are tempered by a decent amount of common sense and ability to use logic and deductive reasoning.

Multi-tasker - What mom isn't?  But seriously, I can have several things going on at once and somehow manage to get through them all.  I get a lot done around my house when I'm on the phone!


Man, this really is kind of a difficult exercise. I feel a little silly going on like this. I tweeted @CiaoMom about my feeling silly and she said back, “Do not feel silly, feel empowered. Celebrating yourself is a gift to yourself in the long run. #BeEnough”.

Alright then. Now I will post.