Have a Secret to Share? Get to Know the Person Behind the Blog

I was thinking of a post I wanted to write, when I did something I often do. I started reading other blogs and found myself lost in a sea of posts. I think blogging is an excellent way to let out your thoughts, feelings, opinions, and anything else you may have on your mind. I enjoy reading other blogs, and it helps me to feel a connection to someone whom I don't even know. I grieve with them, I laugh with them, I learn from them.

My blog has become a mixture of my family life combined with topics that interest me and the occasional review and giveaway. Yet, I often find myself saying something like, "that is for another blog post" or "I will post more about that in the future." I never really talk about me--things that define who I am, who I have become, and who I am continuously striving to be.

Irish Blessings and Happy St. Patrick's Day

I want to take a moment to wish all of my readers a Happy St. Patrick's Day with some of these beautiful Irish Blessings.

 Note: I made sure images were free to use before posting. 

These things I warmly wish for you 

Someone to love, some work to do, A bit o' sun, a bit o' cheer, And a guardian angel always near.

-- Irish Blessing from Great Inspirational Quotes 

From Clip art and crafts

From Clip art and crafts

Source: Seed Factory on Etsy and flickr.com via Jessica on Pinterest

Source: one2c900d on flickr.com via Jessica on Pinterest

From http://www.christmas-graphics-plus.com

Do you ever just stop and take in the moment?

I was reading a post on another blog today about appreciating every moment and taking time to actually realize everything you have. I was then on Facebook when I came across a picture with a story attached, which I immediately searched to see if it was based in truth. The story told the tale of Joshua Bell, a famous musician, who played violin incognito at a Washington subway station. Many passersby simply kept walking. While some did stop and drop money in the bucket, they usually never even stopped to really listen to the music he was playing. Many children were fascinated by the music, but they were ushered ahead by their parents. After researching this story, I discovered that it is true.

 "Each passerby had a quick choice to make, one familiar to commuters in any urban area where the occasional street performer is part of the cityscape: Do you stop and listen? Do you hurry past with a blend of guilt and irritation, aware of your cupidity but annoyed by the unbidden demand on your time and your wallet? Do you throw in a buck, just to be polite? Does your decision change if he's really bad? What if he's really good? Do you have time for beauty? Shouldn't you? What's the moral mathematics of the moment"

Gene Weingarten, a writer for the Washington Post, enlisted the help of Joshua Bell as part of a social experiment. The goal was to see if people believed that something was better simply because of the way it was presented. In this case, it came down to the venue--the difference between a street musician playing at the subway and a famous musician playing in a concert hall. Joshua Bell had just played a concert that had sold out, with seats that cost $100. Now, he was playing the violin in a busy subway station during morning rush hour. They wanted to see if people would stop and see the beauty of the music, even though it was an inconvenient time when people were rushing to work.

While a few people did stop and listen, a crowd never formed and most never stayed for very long. Over 1,000 people simply passed by, without a glance, like he was invisible. Only one person recognized him. Weingarten said, "In the three-quarters of an hour that Joshua Bell played, seven people stopped what they were doing to hang around and take in the performance, at least for a minute. Twenty-seven gave money, most of them on the run -- for a total of $32 and change. That leaves the 1,070 people who hurried by, oblivious, many only three feet away, few even turning to look." When he stopped playing, there was no applause or acknowledgement.

This experiment is intriguing, as it helps show that many people simply do not stop and take a moment to enjoy the simple things in life. Everyone is always so busy--rushing from work to school to finish errands to return home. Days are filled with schedules, meetings, assignments, errands to run, etc. One part of the story really got to me. Weingarten said, "Every single time a child walked past, he or she tried to stop and watch. And every single time, a parent scooted the kid away."

Every time a child stopped, the parent rushed the child forward. One woman who spoke about it afterwards said that she was rushed for time, which is most likely what many of those who passed by would have said afterwards. Yet, it really made me think. We, as adults and parents, are incredibly busy and our children are part of what keeps us busy. We have to keep up with our priorities and schedules, but we also have to keep up with theirs. Yet, children do not ask for these busy schedules. Sure, they may enjoy participating in events or team activities, and those things are good for the child, but do we ever let our children stop and take a moment to enjoy something beautiful? Do we ever stop and let ourselves appreciate beauty in the world? Of course, this experiment does not account for everyone, it was only one subway station in one city, but I would expect that the results would be similar in most areas throughout the country.

In the article, one passerby reported that a homeless person died in that subway station, and no one even looked up--as if that person was invisible too. It makes me sad that we are no longer able to see things that are plainly in front of us, whether it be something that is sad or beautiful. As Weingarten put it, "Let's accept that we can't look at what happened on January 12 and make any judgment whatever about people's sophistication or their ability to appreciate beauty. But what about their ability to appreciate life?"

"If we can't take the time out of our lives to stay a moment and listen to one of the best musicians on Earth play some of the best music ever written; if the surge of modern life so overpowers us that we are deaf and blind to something like that -- then what else are we missing?" 

I think we are missing quite a bit. Many people talk about the stories of passersby ignoring the sad or unfortunate things in our world, and now it appears that we are so busy that we also ignore the beautiful things, as well. I think that it is time that many of us stopped ignoring the things in this world. There is sadness, but there is also beauty.

There are beautiful moments that escape us far too quickly, and we never even realize that they are gone, because we never even stopped to notice in the first place.




Reference:

Weingarten, Gene. "Pearls Before Breakfast." Washington Post [Washington DC] 8 Apr 2007, n. pag. Web. 21 Feb. 2012. < http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html >.

 Snopes: http://www.snopes.com/music/artists/bell.asp

Meltdown at the Grocery Store

We had a meltdown at the grocery store today, but it was not one of my children. No, it was me that started having a fit and crying in the store. I try not to be overly emotional, but sometimes I just can't help it.

I wanted to run to the store this morning before my husband left for work, but I did not have any money in my bank account. He transferred money from his account to mine, which is something we have done numerous times and the money always goes through immediately. I left for the store with my oldest, planning to drop him off at school after we finished shopping. On the way there, my low fuel light came on, so I knew I had to get gas too.We quickly grabbed a few things and headed to the check out lane. When I went to pay, my card was declined.

I am not sure if you have ever had a card declined, but it seems as if it instantly sets off silent alarms within the store. Suddenly, everyone in line starts staring at you, wondering why you are trying to buy groceries when you don't have any money. The cashier is instantly on alert, snatching back the groceries, demanding you produce another way to pay immediately. Other cashiers come over to see what is going on, and everyone stands guard, making sure you don't make a run for it with that loaf of bread or case of Coke.

I already have social anxiety, so I was not pleased with the growing amount of attention I was attracting. I asked the cashier to try again, and it was declined again. I asked her if I could use the phone for a moment, to call my husband and make sure the funds went through. She looked at the growing line behind me, and then at me, and said I would need to take it up with customer service for now and go over to the desk to settle my payment. She then yelled across the store for a manager, because she needed to void the transaction. All eyes continued to stare at me.

I called my husband and he said the funds were in there, to which I replied in a not so nice way. He was upset that I was blaming him, I wasn't, I was just frustrated with the situation. He mentioned that maybe the transfer wasn't complete yet, so I waited a few minutes. I checked my bank account information and it said the funds were in, so I went to customer service where my groceries were being guarded. I tried to pay again, and yet again it was declined. I wanted to try one more time, because I knew the funds were in the account. The customer service employee then said that I should not keep using my card and putting in my pin, because it could freeze my account. After this, my son became increasingly upset.

"Mommy, we can't try again, if we do we can never come back here." "Mommy she said you can't try to pay more than three times." "Mommy are you taking me to school?" "Mommy why can't you get the groceries?"

I called the bank and spoke with someone, at this point I was really flustered and just wanted to get my stuff and get out of there. The woman said my account was on hold and the funds were being held, then put me on hold while she tried to figure out why. After a while she finally came back on the phone and reported that there was no hold, and the funds were available. I asked if she would stay on the line while I tried again. She said she would.

So back to customer service we go. This time they just glared at me, probably annoyed with me. I tried again, and yes it was again declined. At this point, I just lost it. I slightly raised my voice to the woman on phone, telling her that it did not work and it was declined. She seemed confused, but said she would look into it and call me back later. I told her that was not OK, I remembered my low fuel light and was near tears at this point. I ranted about having no gas in my car and I couldn't even drive my son to school, what was I supposed to do? She replied that she understood and would look into it.

I don't think she really understood. I know she was trying to help, but her repeatedly telling me she understood did not seem genuine at the moment. I don't think she understood that I really was out of gas and could not drive my son to school. I don't think she understood how I felt standing there while everyone glared at me as my card kept being declined. I don't think she understood that the whole point of me going out shopping so early was so I did not have to take all of my younger children out with me, which I was now going to have to do later in the day. I don't think she understood I truly needed that dishwasher soap I was buying, because there was none at home and no clean dishes. I don't think she understood that my husband was now late for work because I had been in the store dealing with this mess for too long. In reality, I don't know this woman and she may very well understand those things. Yet, I was frustrated and had a meltdown on the phone in the middle of the store.

I think the people at customer service gave up on me at this point, as they all walked away, while one still stood guard at the cart. I flew from the store with my son and had another mini tantrum in the car. I apologized to my son for getting so upset, but at this point he was also very upset. He was convinced the people at the store were mad and wouldn't let us back ever, he was also very concerned about getting to school.

I came home, with my son. I could not drive him to school, as there was no gas in the car. I came home without groceries and with no answers. So, here I sit, waiting for someone to call me back and explain why I can't access my money. I stopped by the ATM later in the day and tried to take money out, my card was still declined. Still no phone call back, so I have no idea what is going on.

I do feel bad for getting so upset with the woman on phone, as it was not her fault, yet I am frustrated over this entire situation. I think I am done with banks at this point. Thankfully my wonderful husband had some gas cans in the basement and put gas in my car, so I was able to take my son to school. I was also able to stop by his work later and he gave me cash to go to the store (we did not have cash at home, or I would have just paid cash in the first place). I know the whole situation is not a big deal in the grand picture of things, but I was so frustrated during this time. We have food, a home, and family--we are blessed, so I do my best to not stress. Although, I am still worried about why my account is frozen, and I wonder what is going on.

I guess even mommy's sometimes have meltdowns at the grocery store.

Twas The Night Before Christmas-My Version

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The underwear was hung by the chimney with care,

Even the Spiderman ones were there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

Except for the little one who coslept and breastfed.

And I sat down to rest,

As I thought about tackling the large mess.

When from somewhere in the house there arouse such a clatter,

I ran to the living room and saw the tree all a splatter.

Ornaments and trinkets lay all in a jumble,

But no one was there, so I began to mutter and mumble. 

Away to the bedrooms I flew like a flash,

I tore open the doors as I heard another crash.

The toys and the clothes lay strewn in a pile,

And gave the appearance of a mountain as high as a mile. 

 

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a tiny baby and three sets of eyes that shed not a single tear.

With mischievous grins and giggling so loud,

I knew in a moment it must be my children, not very proud. 

Louder than an avalanche, we heard the pounding of feet,

As my husband’s footsteps came quickly, having leapt from his seat.

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Ayden! now, Regan! now, Nora and Oliver!

To bed with you now or Santa will not come to call!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So into the bed, the children they flew,

With their arms full of toys and a drink of water too. 

And then, I retreated, back to the living room,

Knowing too well that I needed more than a broom.

As I stood there and grumbled to myself,

My husband approached and began replacing items to the shelf.

As we tackled the mess, we heard a new sound,

And the pitter patter of little feet was abound. 

They stood there, just staring, 
While I looked back, still glaring. 

Their clothes were mismatched and appeared with a stain,

I yelled at them to stop being such a pain. 

They looked solemn and sad,

Yet I still felt too mad. 

Their eyes—full of tears! Their smiles—now frowns!

They no longer looked like jovial clowns.

With a turn of their heads and a step in their pace,

They quickly began working, as if completing a race. 

They spoke not a word, and went quickly to work,

Picking up the clutter with not one smirk. 

After surveying the damage and completing the task,

I looked at my children, with a question to ask. 

The words slipped my mind, as I watched them sit and stare,

At the twinkling of lights on the tree, as if they were diamonds so rare. 

My husband and I ushered them back to bed,

And I gently patted them each on the head. 

I sat down beside them and told them good night,

And I turned away to shut off the light.

We said “I love you” and closed the door,

And I felt a bit less annoyed than I had before.

But I heard them exclaim as we left their rooms, “we love you”

And I knew that yes, they truly do.

Despite all the messes and the chaos that surrounds us,

They don’t really mean to make such a fuss. 

I stopped to look back at the bedroom door,

And counted my blessings once more. 

It had been a very long night, 

But I knew everything was now all right. 

There was still wrapping to do and gifts to set out,

but I knew nothing could compare to their joy, without a doubt.

As I walked down the stairs and knew I was out of sight,

I said “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

Despite everything, I feel very blessed to have my children and truly feel that they are miracles, even if my days are sometimes chaotic and crazy. I found a few other good versions of Twas the Night Before Christmas too.

For the Moms

For the Troops

Politically Correct Version

Another Politically Correct Version (video)

The Classic

Things You Hear When You Have a Large Family (and cool tees that will speak for you)

I know some people may consider us as having a large family, while others may not think it is that big. Even though my family is not as large as some, we do have four little ones that are all close in age, which always brings about plenty of comments when I am out places with the children.

Wow, you have your hands full. Yes, I do. Like I haven't heard that one before. I think this shirt is awesome for those responses.

Are they all yours? No, actually I just found them lined up outside and figured, "what the heck?" So, I brought them all to the store with me. Here is a shirt for these responses or this one.

You know what causes that don't you? Wait, I thought the stork just brought these kids here and dropped them off. You mean something causes this? Good overall shirt for this. 

Wow, you must be busy. Yes, I am. I am actually too busy to stop and talk, although I would love to chat. Aren't we all busy?

Are you guys done yet? Well, we figured we would have a few more, maybe we can start our own empire or baseball team.


You guys must be like rabbits. Well, I thought my personal life was not open for discussion, but apparently it is. Yes, we are, we actually just can't keep our hands off of each other. No matter that we have a bunch of little ones running around and barely speak to each other half the time, but yes, we are so like rabbits.

Here is a funny post about what to say back to those remarks.

I am very blessed with four children, and so thankful for my little ones. The things people say are crazy, and it is amazing the comments people will make when I am out. All in all, I really don't mind the comments and just go with it. Sometimes, people are generally trying to be nice, while other times...well you know what mom always used to say, "If you have nothing nice to say, better to keep it to yourself." For times when I get those comments, I think I will let my T-shirt speak for me.

Things You Thought You Knew About OCD

Living with OCD is very different than knowing someone who has it or even living with someone who has it. While it is true that OCD has an effect on everyone around the person with it, there are things that people generally assume about OCD are wrong.

People with OCD know the thoughts they have are crazy. I find that a lot of people simply assume that someone with OCD must be completely out of it, and have no clue how ludicrous his or her behavior is. This is not true. People with OCD usually do know the thoughts they have are crazy; they are simply powerless to stop it. They know that washing their hands for twenty minutes is not going to make them any cleaner, but they cannot escape the thought that maybe they missed a spot or that maybe they didn't clean their hands good enough. They know that circling the parking lot fifteen times to make sure they didn't hit someone is silly, but they simply cannot stop thinking "what if?" They know switching the lights on and off several hundred times per day is nuts, but they simply cannot stop doing it because they feel that something bad may happen if they do not do it.

You probably don't have OCD. I hear the term OCD thrown around very loosely. It is common to hear someone say, "I am so OCD," or something along those lines all the time. It is actually a bit unfair to assume you know what OCD is like, because you have no idea what it is like to really live with OCD. Even thought the OCD Foundation estimates that one in 100 adults have OCD, you probably do not have it. So, you like your socks lined up just right in the drawers? You get mad if the laundry isn't separated correctly? You only eat Rice Krispies everyday, because that is what you like? When someone leaves a dirty towel on the floor, you go nuts? You sometimes worry that you left the stove on at home? These thing are normal, they do not mean you have OCD. Some people like things a certain way, and some people like things neat and orderly. That does not mean you have OCD. Now, if you are sitting at your desk at work and cannot stop thinking about whether those socks are in the drawer right, then it may be different. If the thought of not having Rice Krispies makes you want to hyperventilate and pass out, then it may be more than just a preference. If you are so worried about the stove that you leave the store just to go home and check (and then you check it again), then it may be more than just worrying. If you see something when you are out that looks like it may be blood and you become so overwhelmed that you run home to change your clothes and take a shower, because you may have touched the substance, then it may be more than a simple worry. This is not to say that you shouldn't get help if you think you have OCD. I think a lot of people go undiagnosed, so it is important to find a reputable counselor, therapist, or psychiatrist if you are having overly anxious thoughts and obsessions.

It is not all about cleanliness. I find that many people simply assume if you have OCD then you must wash your hands a million times a day, and you probably sanitize everything in your home so much that it resembles the inside of an operating room. There are actually many different types of OCD, and it can show different symptoms in each person. Some people are focused on cleanliness and do keep everything completely clean. Others are focused on contamination, and they may feel that the outside world (or even themselves) is contaminated. You may be surprised to find that some people with OCD do not live in a completely clean home, and there may be toys all over the house or piles of laundry on the floor. Some people are checkers, and they will constantly check things. This can range from the stove being on to circling the parking lot to make sure they didn't hit someone or something. Some people are more obsessive than compulsive, and they may not have any outward symptoms you can notice. Some people are obsessed with food, and may have difficulty eating certain things or eating at all. Some are obsessed with body image and others their hair. Hair pulling is actually common with people who have Trichotillomania, which can be a form of OCD. Some people obsess over death, religion or even have sexual thoughts.

They really can't just get over it.  I have heard this before, "Just stop thinking that way." Well, it really is not that simple. There is no way to just stop thinking that way. The worry takes over the person's mind, and the only way that person can "get over it" is by acing out compulsions. It is a never-ending cycle, that revolves around each next obsession.

References:

How many people have OCD?. (n.d.). Retrieved from http://www.ocfoundation.org/prevalence.aspx

Phillipson, S., & Gibson, C. (n.d.). Trichotillomania. Retrieved from http://www.ocdonline.com/articlephillipson8.php

Not my Finest Mommy Moment

Last night was not one of my finest "mommy moments." I put the dishes in the dishwasher pretty late, and I was waiting for it to finish so I could make dinner. I know I could wash the dishes by hand and that would be a lot quicker, but I have a thing about washing by hand and feeling like it isn't clean enough. So, anyway, dishes are in the dishwasher and it is getting late. By the time I started dinner it was really late, and I know everyone was hungry.

The children filled the kitchen and every minute I heard, "Is dinner ready yet?" Between the constant questions, the little ones were tearing the kitchen apart. A stack of bowls was ripped from the counter and flew across the kitchen. Papers and other items were tossed from the tables. The box of rice that was going to go with dinner ended up in the trash, since something had leaked into the box from another package. "Is dinner ready yet?"

The children were hungry and frustrated, as was I. I muttered to myself, mad at myself for not getting dinner done earlier. They questions persisted, and I finally lost it. I yelled for them all to "get away from me" and "get out of the kitchen."

My daughter screamed and wailed as if being tortured, "Nooo, mommy. I will not leave. Where is my food? I am soo hungry! Is dinner ready yet?"

My husband finally decided to see what all the commotion was about. He demanded the children go to bed without dinner. When they protested he told them that your mommy said no dinner for you and they had to go to bed. (He misheard what I had said--I would never send my children to bed without dinner!)I yelled at him too, annoyed that he only half listened to me and tried to send the kids to bed without dinner. He had a tantrum of his own and left the kitchen to return to the TV.

I tried to finish dinner as the kids slowly reentered the kitchen.

"Is dinner ready yet?"

I did not say anything, I just tried to keep going, as quickly as possible.

"Is dinner ready yet?"

Finally, my daughter said, "I am leaving, it is too boring in here."

And then dinner was ready and everyone was gone.

I did apologize for my outburst later and for the yelling. I pray I do better today.

Duties of the Head Homeroom Parent

I was thrilled to be asked to be the head home room parent for my son's class this year. My son was also excited, and when I shared the news with him he yelled happily, "Yeah, my mommy is the head homeroom parent now!" Then he followed up with, "Uh, Mom, what is the head homeroom parent?"

The duties of the head homeroom parent are basically to plan the parties that will take place during the school year. I was asked after someone else forfeited the role, so I do feel fortunate that they considered asking me. While it is quite a bit of work, I have been enjoying it, mostly. One of the most surprising things is the lack of response from some of the parents. While some are eager to help and share ideas, others do not answer the phone, return emails, or even acknowledge me. I am a bit shy when it comes to speaking on the phone, so it is a bit difficult for me. I get nervous and contemplate what to say and how to say it, and continue to be as friendly as possible. I spend the whole day planning what to say, and then I usually get the machine and end up having to leave a message. Luckily, we have email these days, and I am better at composing my thoughts on paper (or on a screen) than actually speaking them out loud. Regardless, I keep preserving and planning the parties to the best of my abilities.

I have been surprised by one other factor. There are no longer Christmas and Halloween parties, we now have Winter and Fall parties instead. (But really--the kids were all dressed in costumes and there were decorations everywhere--it was a Halloween party, but whatever.) I do understand that we need to be accepting of other customs, religions, and traditions that others may practice, so I am OK with it. Sometimes, it makes the planning a bit difficult. Is this too scary or Halloween-ish? Is this more winter-themed or more Christmas-themed?

I am planning the upcoming Winter Party now, and I am trying to make it as fun as possible, without getting into the Christmas aspect too much. That is kind of hard for me, as we do believe in Christ and we do celebrate Christmas in our home. But, I am sticking to snowmen and snowflakes for the party, and leaving the Santa, Christmas tree and Nativity scene for at home.

I am going to be sharing a few tips in future blog posts that I have found through research, advice from others, and my own experiences with planning the parties.

Are you a head homeroom parent? What kind of parties does your child's school do?

Check out the other blog I write for!

I have been a member of Momtomomchat.com for several years. I have found a lot of support and advice through the forums over the last few years. I have volunteered as a forum moderator there for quite some time, as well. The forum has recently been switched over to a new hosting company, and we now have a blog. I was honored to asked to be an editor and writer for the blog, and I would like to share the blog link here in case anyone would like to take a look.

I am currently posting some reviews and giveaways on the blog, so come check it out and visit the forums too!

Up now is the Hand Vibes Review and Giveaway!

When will the bullying stop?

A video has been circulating around my friends pages on Facebook, and I just watched it today. It was one of the most emotional and heart wrenching things I have ever watched. My heart ached for this boy as he fell apart on camera.

There have been numerous reports circulating the Internet that the boy is a fraud, but he is real. Whether or not you believe that he is being bullied, the message is important and it shows the way many children do feel every day of their lives.


In case you have not seen the video, it was created by a boy named Jonah. He is an 8th grader that is continuously bullied, which has led to him cutting himself and feeling suicidal. He admits that suicide has been an option, but he is "stronger than that" and will not go through with it.


I sat watching the video as the boy switched the index cards on the screen. He did not say a single word, he let his feelings come through with words written on cards and the emotions that showed on his face. I can only hope and pray that this video changes something in his life, and makes things easier for him.

The word bullying hits a very personal note with me. I grew up in area where I had plenty of friends both in and out of school. Before I started middle school, we moved to a new area. I was the new girl and found myself in a strange and unfamiliar place. I had no friends, and the people in the area were not interested in being my friends. I was constantly subjected to questions (more like interrogations) from other students at my new school about where I was from, what it was like where I used to live, etc. I tried to be nice, but they would often laugh at me and make jokes about where I had moved from, even though they had no clue where it was. The silly teasing was only the beginning.

I rode the bus with children that ranged in age from 10 to 18. It was wrong, and I do not think older teenagers that are practically adults should be riding a bus with children that young. There was an incident on the bus one day that made the bullying turn from harmless jokes to something much more serious. I had boys throwing coins at my head, asking me what they could get for it. (I was 11 years old). I had a boy spit in my hair, and others threw spit balls at me. The bus driver could have cared less, she ignored it and even encouraged it at one point.

I ran off the bus at the first stop and  fell down crying at home. I stood in the shower for what seemed like forever, trying to remove the disgusting filth that I felt was covering me. From that point on, the bullying just got worse.

I was tormented in the halls, in the classroom, and on the bus. I had notes taped to my back and boys would kick me in the halls at school. Girls made fun of my clothes, my hair, my makeup. It was like living in a nightmare that I could not escape.

I was fortunate and made a few friends during high school, but it didn't matter, the bullying continued. I started skipping school and went from a straight A student to one that was failing all of her classes. I started cutting myself and experienced other very dark moments during my teenage years. Finally, it became apparent that something needed to be done and the principal spoke with me about transferring to night school, and hopefully I wouldn't fail any grades. I did not reveal the problems I had with bullying, everyone thought I was just lazy or a bad kid that wouldn't come to school.

I don't think my mother knew the full extent of the bullying. I know that she does know about it now, and it breaks her heart that I went through that. It was not her fault, she took me out of an area that was full of drugs, violence, and gangs. She moved me to what was supposed to be a nice area with great schools and friendly people. Who knew that the some of the worst bullies were the kids that are supposed to be the "good ones?"

So, I post all of this to say that anyone can be effected by bullies and anyone can be a bully. However, it has got to stop. When I watched the video of Jonah, I nearly fell apart as I could relate to his feelings so well. He didn't need to say a word, and you could read the pain in his eyes.

Where are the teachers? Where are the parents? When it happened to me, I hid a lot of it, but there were people that witnessed it. No one helped me and no one did anything to stop it. How many stories do we have to hear about children committing suicide before someone does something about the bullying? The Internet has made it even easier for children to be bullied, as the bullies can hide behind the computer and tear apart someone that way. Where are these children's parents? In my experience, some parents don't care, others think it is "harmless fun, " some are oblivious to it, and others think their child would never be a bully. The sad thing is, some parents are actually encouraging the bullying. They may not tell their children to be bullies, but they send the message that it is OK, every time they make a discriminatory remark about someone else in front of their children--the children get the message that it's OK to talk about other people like that. Someone has to help the children that are being bullied. 

What does being a bully do? Make someone feel better about them self? Help them get over the problems they have with insecurities and take attention away from themselves? Children need to realize that when the become a bully, they are breaking apart another person's spirit. They can tear that person down so much that it will eventually become too much for that person to handle. Sometimes, children like Jonah become stronger and fight everyday just to live and get through this time, while others--the pain becomes unbearable and they cannot take it anymore.

I want to raise my children to be kind and caring people, the kind that would stick up for someone who was being bullied, the kind that would never bully someone else, the kind of people that have a heart and compassion. I know this post is long, and I am probably rambling at this point, but the bullying has got to stop. My heart aches for every child out there that is bullied, and I will never let my children go through what I did.

Things I Learned on Black Friday

I swore I would never venture outdoors on Black Friday. I have heard the horror stories, and there was no way I would ever go out in the madness that surrounds that day. Well, this year, with finances being tighter than ever and me not having any shopping done yet for Christmas, I decided I would go out for a few deals. Thankfully, my husband was off work and I was able to go out alone. That rarely happens, and I am usually the crazy lady with four kids in the store with her, while people give me sympathy looks or make comments about my family, "oh you poor dear, you really have your hands full." Anyway, I ventured out later in the day, knowing that most sale items would probably be gone, but I decided to take a chance anyway. I learned several things during my adventures of the day.

Do not park anywhere near the entrance. If you are lucky enough to find a spot close to the entrance of a store, don't park there. Go to the back of the lot. Yes, you will have to walk, but when you park near the entrance, you sit and wait--and wait--and wait--while countless other cars pull in and out of the parking lot and won't stop to let you back out. Or someone sits there angrily honking their horn at you because they want your space, so you better get out of it now.  

Don't bring your kids. Yes, this is unfair of me to say. Having four children myself, I should understand that sometimes moms don't have babysitters, friends, husbands, partners or family members there to watch their children. I take my kids everywhere, the park, the mall, the store--alone, all the time. I get it, but Black Friday is not the day to it. Your kids don't want to be out in the crowds, they are upset, hungry, bored, want every toy they see, etc. I saw so many parents out today with young children, and the children were definitely upset. I live in a house were there is rarely a quiet moment, so I do not have a problem with tantrums or hearing a kid scream--that is my life. But I do feel bad for the parents. The mom stands there looking completely frazzled, her kid is screaming at the top of her lungs, begging to get out of the cart, to go home, get out of this crowd, go play, go eat, etc... and the mom just looks defeated and utterly overwhelmed. I have been there--on a day like Black Friday it makes it even worse. There is no easy way out of the store with ropes up and lines of people, it is way to crowded to let your kid out of the cart, people are pushy and rude, it is really no place for a kid. But, I do sympathize with the mom.

If you do have your kid with you, do not let her ride her bike in the store. This should seem self-explanatory, but apparently it isn't (and yes I did see this today). So, instead of hearing your kid complain, you figure you will just let her ride this new bike all through the store to keep her happy? Well, that doesn't work on many levels. I am not sure why an employee didn't say anything, but the little girl was riding her bike around and around the entrance, then up and down the aisles. People could not get past her, the little girl was in the middle of a crowd of people away from her mom and scared, the mom just glanced over and said "It's OK honey, just turn right and keep going in circles." What?  

People are rude. This is obvious, but the rudeness goes from young people to seniors. I had one woman yelling at me to get out of her way in the parking lot so she could pull in a parking space. Um, lady do you see all the traffic? There was nowhere I could go. Then there's the pushy people. The ones who cut in line, hit you with their carts, shove past you in the aisles, don't say excuse me, cut you off and almost cause an accident on the road...I could go on, but I think you get the point.  

Some people are nice. Yes, there are still some people that are nice out there. Those who say excuse me or apologize for being in the way. Those who wish you happy holidays or a Merry Christmas and seem to be trying to spread cheer.

So, those are a few things I learned on Black Friday. Was it fun? Not really. Did I find some deals? Yes, I did. Were they worth it? Well, my children will be happy, so I guess it was worth it, but I think I will stick to shopping online next year.

Do you have any Black Friday stories to share?

When the Worry Takes Over

I think it is natural for some people to worry over things, such as making it to work on time or if your child will have a good day at school. Some people who are facing daily struggles or health issues have even bigger worries, not knowing how long they or a loved one may live.

As a sufferer of OCD and anxiety, I can say that I have faced too many times when the worry seems to take over my entire life. When a person with OCD becomes worried, that worry usually turns into an obsession. It is like a thick cloud of fog begins to cloud that person's mind, and all that person can think about is the specific thing he or she is worrying over. This usually results (but not always) in the person performing compulsive acts to rid themselves of the unwanted thoughts. Some people with OCD worry that they may hit someone with their car, others worry about death or contamination.

I have come a long way in my battle with OCD, and I have stayed on top of my worry for quite some time. However, just today, I found myself battling the worry once again. I helped my son put on his coat and backpack, then walked him to the door (his dad was going to drive him to the bus stop). As he walked out the door I said, "I love you. Have a good day at school." He stopped and turned, and replied, "I love you with all my heart." Moments like this are so rare for me, because my son has his own mental health issues and often does not express love. I cherish these moments. Yet, as he walked away all I could feel was a deep feeling of worry brewing inside of me. What if something happened to him? What if I never heard those sweet words again? What if that was the last thing I will ever hear my son say?

Worry persists in my mind, engulfing my entire thought process until my mind can only focus on that particular worry. While it is normal to have brief moments of feeling worried, my anxiety turns obsessive and begins to control me. I had to walk back in the house, take a deep breath, and re-channel my energy onto something else. I hope I will always remember the smile on my son's face and the sound of his young voice when he spoke those words to me. However, I do not want those sweet memories being overshadowed with my obsession and constant anxiety.

In life, things happen, both good and bad. People are dealt unimaginable blows when they face tragedies and illnesses. As a constant worrier, I know that you cannot let these thoughts consume your life--always waiting for the other shoe to drop. You miss out on too much when the worry takes over, and you miss out on the simple, special things that happen in everyday life. You may not pursue goals or you may give up on new projects, because you always worry that you will fail. You may never try anything new or avoid going on a trip, because you worry over what terrible thing may happen.

I have been there, and the worry still lives within me, and makes itself known every once and a while. However, I am trying to overcome it every day. I can no longer let these feelings of worry take over my life. I have come to far. I put my faith in God, myself, and my family that I can make it through each day, and fully experience my life--without living in a constant state of panic and anxiety. Living like that is not really living at all.

Managing My Time

As a mom who works from home, I am finding it increasing difficult to manage my time. I am a freelance writer, a college student, a wife, and a mother. I also spend my time working as a maid, cook, referee, teacher, personal assistant, dry cleaner, and the list goes on. I love my children, and I want to do what is best for them. Yet, I find that my time management skills are lacking. I have started a weekly chore chart and schedule, in hopes it will help me become more effective at managing my time. So far, I am having trouble sticking to the schedule. Who can plan for days when the little one needs to nurse all day? Who plans for days when you realize the meat you bought for dinner has gone bad, and now you need to make an extra trip to the grocery store? This post is short, mostly because I should be doing something else right now, like working on mountains of laundry, finishing articles for a client, making breakfast, or studying for a Psychology exam.  So, how do other moms find the time to do all of the things they need to do? Any advice?

Don't Tickle The Butterfly

As excited as I am to venture into the world of blogging, the task of creating my first blog post has left me feeling speechless (almost).

I am filled with those same scary feelings that resemble the moments when my teacher called on me in my high school speech class. It wasn't that I didn't have my own thoughts, feelings or emotions to express. I simply felt a loss for words with 30 students glaring at me, some anticipating my almost certain embarrassment, while others simply did not care what I had to say at all.

So, now I sit here and contemplate what it is that I have to say that would be of any interest to anyone else.

That brings me to the reasons for starting this blog. My children. My four beautiful, crazy, exhausting, joyful children.

We recently purchased one of those butterfly kits. The one where they mail you a little tent for butterflies and a plastic tub of caterpillars. I will preface this by saying I am not a fan of bugs and watching the caterpillars shed their skin made my skin crawl. However, it was a unique opportunity for my children to experience the wonder and amazement of the life cycle of a caterpillar. So, I disregarded my queasiness and ordered the kit.

My children were fascinated, but the excitement dwindled as they waited for the caterpillars to complete their transformation. Finally, the caterpillars emerged as beautiful butterflies. My children were fascinated, engrossed in watching the fluttering of wings as the butterflies started their new life.

My children are not the most delicate creatures. They are the rough and tumble type. Constantly on the move and constantly engaging in some type of altercation, daring act or gymnastic feat. I watched closely, anticpating the moment when one of my children would certainly trample the helpless little butterfly. Then one of my children asked, as innocently and sweetly as possible, "Are butterflies ticklish?" She then proceeded to stretch out her little hand and attempt to tickle the butterfly. I quickly replied, "Don't tickle the butterfly." Such a silly question to most adults, yet one that she genuinely wanted an answer to. It was in this moment that I realized that my children truly do have a unique way of looking at the world.

A family member joked that the comment from my child would make a good title for a book. I thought it would make a good title for a blog, so here it is.

There are moments in life, precious moments, when children say or do the most extraordinary things. They grow so fast and those precious moments slip away so quickly. I may try to remember each moment, but sometimes I forget what I had for lunch that day. Work, family, life-- there are so many obligations and duties we have that we lose so many of those memories. Each memory is replaced by another and soon we start forgetting those small moments. The ones where your child stares at a bug in amazement and wonder. The times when your child asks you a question that seems to deep for his or her innocence. The moments when your child throws the biggest tantrum over a misplaced sock or pair of shoes.....Wait, do I want to remember those moments? Well, yes, actually I do. My mother has often told me to write down the things my children say or do, because these moments will escape us far to quickly. I believe this to be true. All the wonder, joy and yes even the tantrums of a child, show us how a child see's life-through his or her eyes. It may not always be pleasant or happy, for both the child or the parent. However, these moments help me discover life through the eyes of each of my children.

For someone who was feeling at a loss for words, I certainly ended up rambling on for quite a long time.So, my blog is my journey through motherhood--all the ups and the downs. I invite you all to follow me on this journey of discovering life through the eyes of a child (and discovering life through my eyes as a very blessed parent). What is one of the way's you discovered life through your child's eyes today?