DMV--Notice Me!

Nothing tears you down like being treated like you are invisible. We all like to be noticed, but when you are used to being adored being ignored can be particularly painful. My son learned this life lesson the hard way this week.

We recently purchased a new car, and we are really enjoying the reliability and safety of our new ride, however there are two sides to every coin, and the nasty side of this coin meant a trip to our local Department of Motor Vehicles office to register it.

Now, based on my past experiences with DMV offices, they are horrible, evil places where happiness goes to die as you wait and wait, and deal with rude, impatient employees. So, going on my own with a wiggly baby to face these circumstances was at the bottom of my list of things I would like to do; right under letting Henry pull all of my hair out. But, it had to be done, so I gathered my supplies and courage, and we went.

I entered the DMV looking a bit like a pack mule, (it's amazing how much you feel like a pack mule once you are a parent, laden with bags and bags of supplies). I was awed to see a clean, well lit space with plenty of seating. The walls were adorned with posters that said, "Yes! We can help you with that," and all of the employees were smiling. I checked in, and the woman asked me for my cell phone number. Instantly I received a text message letting me know my wait time (which was short), that I would receive updates, and that I could move around, and even leave while I waited, as long as I returned when it was my turn. The sophistication of this system blew me away, and I later told Zac that this DMV was a resort compared to others.

With nothing left to do but wait, we sat down. Henry looked around a bit, excited to be in a new place, and then immediately went to work trying to make new friends. Now, because Henry is incredibly cute and charming, this procedure is usually a piece of cake. Henry's technique is to stare at the target expressionless, and then burst into a brilliant baby grin that instantly melts hearts. Our day at the DMV was his first experience with rejection.

It seems that the good people of Reno have no idea how great they have it because they were all grumpy. I mean, no matter how lovely of a DMV you are dealing with, no one really wants to spend their time waiting in it, but still. Henry first set his sights on an elderly woman sitting to our left. He tried every trick in the book, and I could tell that she was aware of him, but she refused to look at him. He tried to win over a few other people, always coming back to target # 1, with no luck. Finally he looked at me, with a befuddled expression that clearly read, "am I having an off day?" I smiled at him, and kissed him, and this made him feel re-energized, so he decided to try again.

This time he gave quickly up on his usual tactics, and came up with a brilliant adaptation. Henry paused for a few seconds after stopping his cooing sounds, and then he coughed once. Then he coughed twice. Soon he was making rhythmic coughing sounds. Not like, when you need to cough, but more like when you clear your throat to get someone's attention. Henry was trying to get someone's attention, and although this lady was like a fortress of disinterest, she did take note of the coughing. Without looking at Henry or me, she scooted away, escaping, I suppose, from the "germs." Henry continued to cough in her direction, until she moved away completely. Henry watched her go with sad eyes, and then looked back at me, defeated.

Luckily, a bright young woman took her place, and she was delighted by Henry, and he was ecstatic to learn that I was not the only one who could see him. Throughout our time there he ended up making a few more friends, but he now has a priceless life lesson under his baby belt.

Adventures in Grocery Shopping and Mommy Brain...again

Yesterday I found myself at the grocery store with an adorably dressed baby, and a dashing, well groomed husband. As for me... well, let's just say that if my little family was a "which thing doesn't belong?" activity it would be too easy. Due to unforeseeable morning complications, I was not presentable. But, it was time to pick Zac up from school to go grocery shopping, and time waits for no mom, so we went.

After parking, I quickly smoothed my hair into a pony tail that I hoped didn't look too tangled. Of course, on the way inside, Henry pulled on it, so by the time we reached the door it looked like something heavy had sat on it. I asked myself for the millionth time, "why do I even bother?"

Once inside the store I carried my strapping six month old in the Bjorn, and we began shopping. No one took particular notice of me, which is good--grungy and nondescript is definitely better than attention grabbing grungy.

And then it happened. The moment that made me realize that things had gotten out of control. I frightened a child. While passing a little girl (who was grinning at everyone, by the way), I smiled at her. Her
 smile vanished immediately, and her wide eyes took fearful note of my hair. She backed away. This experience shook me up a bit. So, it shouldn't surprise you that when I realized I was passing a co-worker I reflexively turned my head sharply away, pretending to be overly interested in a bag of sunflower seeds.  (Fingers crossed that she didn't actually see me.)

With our teething woes increasing and Easter on the way, in addition to all the usual craziness of life with a baby, I am bound to have many more days like this. If you can relate to this than you can probably relate to my other mommy brain symptoms which appeared in my guest post on Life and Lies of Being a Mom. I am posting it again on my own blog because it was just so relative to my crazy, crazy week!

Enjoy, and have a lovely Easter, my friends!

The “Mommy Brain” Crazy Train

“Pregnancy brain is the worst!” That is what people tell you, and during your first pregnancy you believe them because you don’t know any better, and it is awful. During my third trimester I cried in frustration at least once per day because of my pregnancy brain. I longed for the day when I would be able to hold thoughts in my head again, and my baby in my arms, but that day still hasn’t come. The truth is: pregnancy brain is nothing compared to mommy brain.

Mommy brain is more than exhaustion induced sluggishness or pregnancy induced dementia. It is a vexing dance of forgetting and remembering at the same time, with thoughts lingering on your brain for one second only, then turbulently replaced with a new one. This alteration in brain power will cause many changes. Here are five you may notice:

You become the most random person you know.

“The baby had another blow out, which reminds me that we need more diapers (phew, glad I got that one out), also I want to make everyone matching Christmas pjs, and …oh crap! Um…this wasn’t it, but we need to defrost some beef for dinner.” At first my husband would raise an eyebrow, keeping his thoughts to himself, but now this sort of slap dash communication is commonplace in our life. He doesn’t even blink, but instead repeats “diapers, Christmas pajamas, beef. Got it,” in an effort to reassure me that someone will remember.

You won’t usually remember, but when you do it will be when you’re trying to sleep.

If I had a nickel for every time I woke up in the night, suddenly remembering a slew of things I had forgotten during the day… “Oh man, I don’t want to forget that again. Should I wake up--? No, no just grab some paper. Where to find…? Oh dang, it’s gone... I’m going back to sleep.”

When you do remember something you didn’t write down you feel like a champion. I won a spelling Bee in the second grade and felt like I was literally on top of the world. I didn’t think any accomplishment would ever eclipse that moment of blissful and total success, but I was wrong. As an example I have included a recent conversation had at the grocery store.

Husband: “I feel like we need something else, what are we forgetting?

Me: “Um…”

Husband: “Do we need cereal?”

Me: “No…”

Husband: “Hmmm….”

Me (in a loud, overly enthusiastic voice that makes passersby jump in surprise and look at us): “Bread!”

Euphoria ensues!

Your forgetfulness causes you to look little, well, homeless.

Pretty much every time I leave the house I realize that I look like a cross between a stray dog and a war refugee. This is usually because even though I tried my hardest to remember to change my shirt (which is covered in spit up), or to brush my hair, or put on a little make up I ultimately find that I am out in the real world having accomplished none of those things. I am smelly, tangled, and have made no attempt to camouflage the bags under my eyes. Gone are the days when I would feel a jolt of panic upon realization that I had left the house without putting earrings in. I can barely remember what earrings look like? Do I own any?

You have a new set of skills

Sure simple addition makes you scratch your head occasionally, you mix up words when you speak, and you can’t remember where anything is. Who cares? Now, you can change a dirty diaper in the blink of an eye. Suddenly, you are capable of performing nearly every task with one arm, instead of two, (this means that if you do happen to remember the mountain of dirty laundry you at least have a fighting chance). You have inexplicably ninja-like reflexes. Everything else about you may be firing extra slow, but when your baby is in an even slightly dangerous situation your on the scene quicker than lightning. These new skills may not impress the masses, but they will impress your family, and they are particularly well suited to your new set of tasks.

So, the question is: where did all that extra brain space go? Recent research suggests that a woman’s brain becomes very plastic just after giving birth, growing so that she can better care for her baby. It’s true that motherhood brings a plethora of extra responsibility making your brain a little crowded, but I believe there is more to it. I think the cranial real estate gets bought out by something far more worthy. No matter how difficult your parental journey is there is an awful lot of extra love and happiness thrown into life, and when your heart gets too full you have to store the excess somewhere. So enjoy the joy and take all of your mommy brain related faux pas in stride.

Find Your Crafty!

My family has a myriad of holiday traditions, and I love all of them, save one. Each November my mother hosts a "craft day," which is historically attended by my grandmother, my sister, dear family friends, and of course, me. We enjoy a soup bar and complete hours of Christmas crafts. This is a fun day for my mother who is very crafty (in the best sense of the word), but not so fun for me. Though the crafts varied from year to year one thing was was consistent. I always ended the day in tears. It wasn't just that my projects did not become the realization of what I had hoped--they were complete failures. My crayon wax candle couldn't stand up straight, the paint on my ornament had mixed together leaving me with a hideous gray-brown angel, my snow globe leaked, etc. These botched attempts were made more tragic by my younger sisters final projects, which were always far superior, if not downright lovely.

Surely, everyone supposed, it was because I was so young. We all reasonably expected that once  I was older these mishaps would cease. Middle school came and went with no change. Attending high school did not bring about the desired change either. No, definitely not. By college I was no better, but I had at least learned not to cry... in front of anyone.

When my super awesome boyfriend (now husband), came home with me for Thanksgiving I knew that the time had come to tell him the truth, since he would be included in our craft day:

"So...I'm not crafty, and I'm kind of sensitive about it."

"I'm sure you are perfectly crafty."

" No, I'm not. I've barely learned to color inside the lines, and even that can be touch and go."

"Oh, ok."

"Also, I sometimes cry."

"Oh...wow. It's that bad, huh?"

It was. But, luckily it wasn't a deal breaker for my prince charming.

Later, after two years of marriage, I was showing off the fabulous mobile I had made for our unborn son to him when he declared, "You tricked me! You said you weren't crafty! You didn't even have a pattern or tutorial for this!"

In that moment I realized he was right. I had become crafty! As I pondered how this miraculous change had come about, I realized that the projects I had so successfully completed were completely unlike any of the past craft day endeavors. I had been crafty all along, I just took a while to discover the right mediums!

Here are my words of wisdom: You can DIY, just realize that not all types of projects will be your cup of tea. As you continue down the path of crafty your confidence will grow, and so will your abilities. Never be afraid to try. Failures are doorways to better craft-sense in the future.

If this looks like your kind of crafty try out this Easter decoration project! It requires some very simple sewing.

This shabby chic banner looks so cute in my house! I'm so glad to have something to decorate my home with for my second favorite holiday (second favorite partially because of religious reasons, and partially because I love ham!).

I got the four shapes for free from Nana Company. Then, I used word to make patterns for the letters. Choose any sans serif font you like, I used Gill Sans Ultra Bold. Print your patterns and cut them out.

 

Use the patterns to cut out the shapes/letters in coordinating fabrics. Cut rectangles out of  linen or burlap.

Sew your shapes/letters to your rectangles, and then sew around the edges of your rectangle to prevent fraying.

 

When all of the rectangles are sewn, hang them from a piece of twine or ribbon using miniature clothespins. 

 

 Put bows between each square to make it extra cute! I used lace hem tape for mine.

Let me know if you try it, or if you have any questions about the process! Happy Easter!

That's It! I'm Moving to Neverland!

I have had enough of being a grown up. I mean, it used to be pretty cool with perks such as staying up as late as I wanted, going wherever I wanted, and eating as much ice cream as I wanted, any time I wanted. Now, I'm way behind on my obligations, elbow deep in dirty diapers, would sell my kidney for extra sleep, have a car that won't work, and a baby that won't allow me to eat ice cream. All in all, I feel a little ripped off.

Maybe I'll move to Neverland.

This may be why so many young "adults" wait to grow up. I can see the allure in a life where your budget has ample wiggle room, and you live in a home that you own, the walls of which are adorned by framed diplomas before embarking on the marvelous and challenging journey of parenthood.

By the way, I would move to Neverland, except that moving is like super concentrated grown up work...blech


There was a time, when I was so afraid of the responsibility that comes with being a parent that just thinking about becoming one made me feel a little sick. When Zac and I both realized that it was time to start a family, we were...well, we were freaking out! We were trying to dig ourselves out of the trenches of car repair debt, living with family, and had no idea where our lives were headed. I'm sure that there are ways to be less "ready" to have a baby, but I can't really think of any applicable ones. I did a whole lot of searching, pondering, and praying and stumbled upon 1 Nephi 17 verses 50 and 51.

 50 And I said unto them: If God had commanded me to do all things I could do them. If he should command me that I should say unto this water, be thou earth, it should be earth; and if I should say it, it would be done.

51 And now, if the Lord has such great power, and has wrought so many miracles among the children of men, how is it that he cannot instruct me, that I should build a ship?

This had a profound impact on me, and I decided to be faithful like Nephi and trust that if he could build a ship, then I could have a baby. Soon my heart changed and I found that I had the courage to do what had before seemed impossible.

Seven months later I was pregnant with Henry, and during my pregnancy amazing things happened! Zac was accepted to a school, I got a high paying short-term job that allowed us to pay off our debts, and our friends and family rallied around us to make the entire process much more do-able. These were huge blessings for us, but we still didn't have the financial security many consider prerequisite for starting a family. News Flash: Those prerequisites don't matter! When the time is right, it's right.



Henry was born when we had been married for about a year and a half, other couples begin a family immediately, others after five years or longer. The time table for each couple is different, so I can't dictate when the time is right for anybody else. All I know is that every moment I am in awe of Henry's perfection, and it makes me shudder to think that if I had let the fear of unpreparedness keep us from beginning a family at that time, than the glorious and unique combination of cells and soul that is my son, Henry, would not exist. Putting off starting a family when the time is right is always, without exception, a huge mistake.


My heart hurts for people who chose to pursue careers or possessions in place of beginning a family, and truly breaks for those who desire and pray for a child, but have not been blessed with one yet. I know that nothing I could ever earn or own would be superior to being a mother. Mother and Father may be common place titiles, but they are still distinguished.

That being said, Neverland is still tempting at times.

Now my biggest problem is that I keep noticing that Henry is growing up, and it is quite devastating. For example, last week Henry wasn't ready to go down at bedtime. I apparently tearfully told him that he could either go to sleep or stay awake listening to me cry while telling him about how he is growing up too fast. He chose sleep. Afterward Zac told me "This happens every time you don't feel well or get too tired...it's weird."

I'm going to take him with me when I move.  (And Zac, of course!)

Actually, on second thought, we'll just stay here. Life is more complicated, taxing, and stressful with our little bundle of joy, but I don't mind the difficulty. It is also happier, more exciting, and fuller. I think we will save Neverland for all who foolishly choose not to grow up. Being a grown up is awesome, but it has less to do with ice cream than I had originally thought. Life as a grown up is actually amazing because embracing grown up responsibilities gives you the opportunity to become the absolute best version of yourself, and to make the best possible mark on the world. I guess I don't feel ripped off at all, I feel blessed and rewarded beyond measure. Though, I am still keenly interested in more sleep if anyone is in need of a kidney...

*Note: This post is not written as a judgement on anyone. I know how scary starting a family can be, and my intent is to share my experience in the hope that it might help others have confidence in their own intuitive decisions.