Motherhood, A Spiritual Practice; A Crash Course In Wisdom

Momma Zen, a memoir by Karen Maezen Miller, a wife, mother, writer and Buddhist Priest, is not a parenting book.

It’s a book about motherhood, about being a mother. It’s a book about being.

Within the first few chapters I wasn’t too keene to continue because Miller was very self-focused. Very negative. When Miller became a mom, she felt her life was over. As a mom, I am well aware there are hard parts, sad parts and frustrating parts. But from a zen teacher’s point of view, I was expecting more positivity mixed in with her stories of struggle.

But I suppose life isn’t all peaches and cupcakes — so onward I read. 

As the pages turned and my highlighter was running out of ink, I started to see the book morph into a mirror – that’s how much Miller’s experiences were resonating with my own journey through the first year(s) of motherhood.

“I was jealous. I was jealous that he could respond, so agile and free, to his own urge. I was jealous that he could walk even one foot in any direction without dragging a chain. I was jealous that he could begin the day, eat a meal, leave a room, have a plan, and mind his own business. But mostly, I was jealous that he could go to the bathroom whenever he wanted. It seems to me that a huge part of motherhood is spent looking for a parking space. Not a parking space for the car. For the kid. Let me just find a place to put this, you say to yourself.”

I read this passage in my head. And then again. Then one more time. I looked up at my fiance, rolled my eyes, and then read it aloud to him. BOOM. SOMEONE GETS IT. I am a stay-at-home mom with a baby waddling at my ankles every second of everyday. Literally my daughter follows me closer than my own shadow, everywhere I go. She’s even starting to try to climb the baby gates when I go room to room. And she’s sticking her tiny little fingers under the bathroom door if I dare attempt to go pee- she truly is my mini me whom I go everywhere with. I don’t really have a choice haha! I stay home with my daughter by choice, but that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve a break too. I get envious when my partner is home sitting on the couch “occupying the baby” while I’m making dinner, yet she’s still at my feet trying to turn off the knobs on the stove. Or really, like Miller said, that he can just get up and go to the bathroom whenever he damn well pleases. She’s right, I’m always looking for a place to put the baby haha.

All jokes aside though, through her genuineness, worry, lack of sleep and then even boosts in confidence in her own ability, I was reminded by Miller that my everyday experiences are more than just that. Perhaps it is actually spiritual growth.

Let’s start at the very beginning of becoming a mom – well not conception and those long nine months of nausea and kicking, but when you’re bringing that beautiful baby into the world.

“When you go into labor, you see that you are not the captain of the ship. You are the ship. There is no captain. There are only waves.”

So many women, myself included, have this idea of a “birth plan” or at least an idea of what they think should happen – or what they want to happen. Fortunately for you, I’ll spare the gory details of my 36+ hour labor/delivery, but as for most women. It did not go as planned. In fact my delivery nurses and doctor were trying to keep me out of the loop in hopes to keep my calm and my baby stable. UGH. I like to know every detail and I like to be in control. Oops. Being able to let go of the fact I wasn’t actually Captain Morgan, but just a ship about to be capsized- I had to let it be. Let it happen as it was going to happen. Hell that was a great lesson and a great introduction into the scariest hood in the world – motherhood.

Second lesson: your child is a tireless teacher.

Now that my daughter is just over a year old, and having read Zen Momma, I’ve discovered that yes, children really are examples of the art of being. Flipping their picture book pages, feeding their baby dolls from miniature bottles, putting the puzzle pieces back on a completely different puzzle, exploring rooms, singing, dancing, watching Sesame Street. Wherever they are, whatever they’re doing. They are completely immersed in it.

I won’t delve too much more into this book, because I want to save some for you mommas too!

Momma Zen’s chapters are short, to the point but enlightening. Miller helps how you handle everyday experiences, to put them in perspective and how to just be what you are. If you’re tired by tired. If you’re feeling defeated, feel defeated.

You need to bring peace not only to yourself but within yourself.

Peace in your own life equals peace in your child’s life.

 

 

 

 

Peace in Parenting

Buddhism Through American Women’s Eyes was one of the most enlightening books I’ve read in a while — tales of how the practice of Buddhism has affected women and their mental states in situations that men can’t necessarily experience — a prime example, childbirth and motherhood. One of the sections of the book that stood out to me most was about women who meditated before they actually became mothers. Without going into grave detail the end of the chapter concluded that women need to give moms a break so they can still meditate (which I totally understand and agree with by the way) but then I realized that my daughter is my muse and that mothering in itself is my meditation. As we all know it gets hectic with little ones sometimes. They’re screaming, or they’re cranky, they’re making a mess – but even still in those moments I take a step back and it’s like the whole world around me stops and it’s just me and my child. In a split second I reflect and everything is immediately put into perspective – my mind becomes clear(er), I realize how beautiful, valuable and fragile life really is, especially through such young eyes as a child.

When my child was first born I knew she was pure, original, healthy and more importantly a future member of society. It’s a cliche but the children are our future. My main goal in parenting is give her love, compassion and honestly. I believe that you get back what you put out into the universe so I’m teaching her what I can even before she is able to speak, crawl or walk — teaching her one of the greatest lessons in this life, loving-kindness. I am her karma spirit guide after all. Using our household pets and plants I’m teaching my daughter non-harm and non-hate. As they say parents are our first teachers. As we help our children grow the next phase is to help them look for something deeper in their lives, whether it’s their passions and hobbies, their future careers, etc.

I wish for my child(ren) to be giving, selfless, loving. How do I teach this? You can say say say but really what you need is to do do do. As the firstborn especially our daughter is spoiled. By me, her father, her aunts, her grandparents, our family friends… so when it comes to when she’ll start having parties with friends and such – in leu of gifts I want to donate to a cause. I met a woman today who does this with her daughter and I’m truly inspired by it. Perhaps gather pet supplies to give to a the humane society, or nonperishable food items to give to a food shelter, or gather and give old toys to those less fortunate. Something natural that she and her friends will be able to take with them as the grow up. Something rewarding for all of us – and it’ll be reinforced because we will be doing it as a family and with her friends. I will always lead by example for my daughter. I will be the best person I can be for her – becoming a mom didn’t change who I was just how I “do me” because now I have to “do us” – do for our family.

Doing good for others and giving when you can is good for the soul – the interconnectedness from within herself that will come out of these traditions will be a key ingredient into being a successful and contributing member of society in the future. Loving-kindness and a good heart creates the most powerful protection and makes the world go round, and as a mother I will always protect my daughter.

I’m The Matriarch To My Own Clan Of Weirdo’s

I hate it when I’m waiting for my Mom to cook dinner and then I remember I am the Mom. Shit. Me. Sometimes it’s annoying but most days I love it. I’m proud to be the Mommy; because of this I am ok with “adulting.” I’m the one in charge. Yeah yeah yeah the man is the “head of the house” but lets be honest My Big Fat Greek Wedding said it best, “the man is the head of the house but the woman is the neck and the neck can turn the head anyway it wants to.” So that’s me in a nutshell. Just being the neck; the emotional and physical support system for my family The one who everyone in the household turns to.

“Where’s my _______.” “I can’t find my _____.” “What are we doing this weekend?” Baby cries, she wants her mommy. As most Moms know, without you it’d all be chaos. Maybe not at first but give it a day or two…. the men wouldn’t eat. The house would definitely not be clean. The animals might be fed but most likely wouldn’t have clean drinking water. The laundry wouldn’t be done… or at least not dried, folded and put away. Who knows what the heck the kids would be wearing, or eating, or even doing for that matter. The houseplants would be dehydrated beyond saving.

Let us all face the facts ladies and gentlemen, Moms rule. I rule. I may not be perfect. My family may not be perfect. But we are all perfect for each other – I can proudly say that I am the matriarch to my own clan of weirdo’s and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

You’ve got me – Mommy Morgan!

Nick, my fiance and the daddy to our daughter, pets and plants.

Our beautiful five month old daughter Maxly.

Our rescue chihuahua Minnie.

Up until recently we had two adopted kitties, Mr. Deeds and Small Cat but as of last Sunday we recused a 9 1/2 year old female cat named Baby – so our three cats.

Our tortoise Olive .

And then our 20+ houseplants.

It sounds like a lot, because it is a lot. But it’s us. This is us. This is our lives; we are all each others family.

I may doubt myself sometimes, feel defeated, tired, exhausted rather aka not feeling the best version of myself. Feeling unneeded or under appreciated… but then my daughter gives me a look, a coo, a wet kiss that she specifically was saving for me. The cats will nudge me with their heads for belly rubs in spots that only I know about about. The dog snuggles up in my neck when I’m sleeping and nibbles my ear. The tortoise rushes towards my voice when I call out her name when I enter the room. My fiance will give me an extra long kiss or look or squeeze when we put the baby to bed, our “alone time.”

That’s when I remember, or rather am reminded that I am special. I am important. I am their Mother. Their partner. Their caregiver. Their love. Their Matriarch.

Raise Your Hand If You’ve Ever Felt Personally Victimized By Regina George.. I Mean Your Baby.

*Mommy Morgan raises her hand!*

Yup that’s right sometimes I swear my baby has it out for me. I know she adores me, loves me, finds me fun and entertaining and if something is wrong or she’s super sleepy I am the one she’ll cling to. She knows that I know her best but lately she’s really starting to test the waters. I knew it would happen but I didn’t realize it’d be so soon, heck she just turned five months! She’s still one of the best behaved babies I’ve ever crossed paths with (and no I’m not being biased because I used to work at a daycare and have been babysitting for over 10 years) but damn is she turning into a little firecracker.

First it started with slight “hits” to the face and “kicks” to the throat when I’d bend down and dress her on the bed in which I’d laugh with her, and then the hair pulling began. Helllll no. (Mind you my hairstyle is a bob so there isn’t even much to pull but it still hurts.) For a couple of days I let it slide and that’s when I grabbed her hand or foot away and looked her straight in the eye and said “no” in a firm voice. SHE SCREAMED. Like a blood curdling scream. “Ok child who are you and what have you done with Maxly?” I held her up over my head, looked at her face and said in a calming voice, “Miss Maxly you can’t just do what you want, you can’t just hurt people, you cannot hurt mommy.” She stopped screaming, looked at me and smirked. Oh ok so you do understand English, tone and body language. I’ll remember that. Today she was (fake) crying, no tears and all because I making her do something she didn’t necessarily want to do. I knelt down to her level, looked at her and said with a serious stern voice, “Hey. Maxly. We have no time for this drama. Knock it off, I can tell you’re faking.” Believe it or not once again she stopped. I know she’s a baby but let’s face it people; babies are a lot smarter than you give em’ credit for. They’re feeling out what they can and cannot get away with. She even cackles at me when she does a massive poopy or a blowout. Little shit. Literally. CACKLES. She knows what she’s doing, she knows what she did to me.

I will not raise a bratty child. One who feels entitled, feels she doesn’t have to listen. One who will disrespect her parents or disrespect others. My daughter will not be a mean girl. I know she isn’t even six months but it’s never too early to start teaching your children. If I start now versus when she’s a year a half – it’ll be easier to teach her manners and they’ll stick.

Babies are smarter than we give them credit for. I’m currently teaching my baby the sign for “eat” when it’s time to eat her cereal. I also include the motion with my mouth and a chewing sound. She’s still grasping the hand motion but right around when she’s supposed to get cereal she makes the chewing noise and mouth motion. SMARTY PANTS. She knows what she wants. She remembers what I was doing…what meant cereal time. She’s also learning the sign for “milk” for when it’s time for a bottle. We’re getting there but she’s doing the motion now when it’s time for bed, which means it’s time for a bottle. Babies are wiser than we realize. Their brains are amazing little storage units. Did you know that from birth until the age of five children will retain the same amount of information from the age of five to 18?

I’m not saying treat your baby like a 10 year old but you don’t have to “baby” your baby. They’ll realize that they can walk, or crawl all over you, and they may just turn into a little monster. Who may be cute…but they’ll still be a monster. Stick to your guns and don’t let your baby and/or child personally victimize you like Regina George.

Raising My Best Friend

Your daughter is not your best friend. Your daughter is not your friend. Your daughter should not be your friend. But who says I can’t raise her to be? My mother instilled this within me at a very young age – she was my mom, not my buddy. Now that doesn’t mean my childhood and teenage years weren’t full of love, fun, trust and adventures – because they were, I assure you. Those years were the successful transition to what lead me to be the person I am today – best friends with my mom.

For certain, there’s got to be a fine line and balance between love, nurturing and discipline. Setting boundaries is the key ingredient to successful parenting. The paramount in this is really to just practice what you preach and be a good role model for your daughter. Portray qualities she’ll admire and respect – humor, patience, peace, respect and more. Spend as much time with your kids as you can / that they’ll let you as they grow up. Go on journeys, day trips, a trip to the mall, go out to eat, get your nails done just you and her. Make each other feel good whilst installing self worth, killing two birds with one stone.

Along with communication between mother and daughter, supporting her passions and dealing with my personal issues in a way that won’t impact my daughter- there’s one thing that will connect you and your daughter to the next level of “just mom” but in-between “(best) friends.” Make them understand you’re a real person – not just mom. It took me way to long to realize this and appreciate my own mother as more than a mom.

Can a mom be too close to her daughter? Nah. I don’t think so. Mom’s and daughters are supposed to be close! Right? That’s why they make matching outfits right? Haha.  I am my mom’s mini me and my daughter is only 5 months old and she’s already my mini me -adapting some of my little quirks.

Let’s face it Mom knows and understands you best, especially after raising you for your entire life. First the mom and forever the friend. It’s one of the most rewarding things that can happen. I love my mom for this fact. I  genuinely enjoy everything about her inside and out. We were not pals when I was a kid – she was fun and authoritative  in moderation but she did good. I will do good. First I’ll be Maxly’s mom; forever I’ll be her friend.

Running Late Is My Cardio

 

I am on my own schedule but really I am on the baby’s schedule. Our schedule really… which I guess still revolves around her. Whatever works. Lately I’ve been trying to be a boss mom, whatever that means. Through my “soul searching” I’ve realized I need to work on our time management. Well my time management. Growing up I was always taught to be on time is to be early. I was always annoyingly on time. Always. Before I became a stay-at-home-mom my job required me to be there for 7am, so 645am there I am pulling into the parking lot. My boss would get annoyed and say “Jesus Morgan why don’t you come in for 730?” so finally 7am there I was “on time” ready to work. I loved going in and making lists and getting stuff done, I felt so accomplished. Smart man my boss was, tricking me to not be early. Even nine months pregnant and sleepy as could be I would still be early and eager to work.. and managed to get Dunkin on the way. So I have fantastic work ethic and am a freak about time and being late – shoot me. I liked to make the most of my day.

When my baby was born I realized I needed to slow down – physically and mentally, for her and myself. I was still my normal self but family members, friends, my OBGYN all told me to basically take a chill pill. But maybe I’ve gotten to comfortable with that fact?

Most days we’re home but we’re on a schedule (for the most part). Getting ourselves into a routine was the best thing that I could have done for us. Granted days change and life happens. Errands, surprise naps, visiting friends and families, etc. everything can’t be the same everyday. So on days like that… I need to lean towards my old self.. the one who was annoyingly on time. Say we have a doctors appointment or a reservation, that’s different, we’re on time because I feel too nervous to be even one minute late. So what’s different with my family/friends and other things I need to get done? I still like to make the most of my day and feel accomplished but maybe my priorities aren’t in line? But maybe they are?

To be honest (and maybe it sounds like an excuse) but at my old job specifically I was working 60 hours a week. 60!!!! At minimum. There were weeks were I would work over 70 hours, and I was pregnant mind you!!! Since I am no longer working for the time being it’s like I feel like I deserve to sit back and enjoy life. Like it’s okay to really sweat the small stuff. I just want to enjoy my baby, my mom, my new friends, my dog, my cats, my tortoise, my freedom. I want to do things on my own time I guess?

Meeting friends, going grocery shopping, preparing dinner…sometimes I just find the day passing by too quickly and I’m not getting done what I need to get done… at least not as timely as I’d like. I don’t mean for it to happen that way. I swear. I have the upmost respect for other peoples time.  I’m very organized as to where I need to go or what I need to do but I’m not doing too well with my time management.

I’m not even doing much some days but I feel like I’m all over the place. Why? Help?

Love, diaper changes, food, cuddles, sleep, play – babies needs aren’t that difficult. In fact they’re so simple. Now that she’s on her way to being five months old she’s not too unpredictable. But life happens. We get those unexpected spit ups that are in need of an instant change, we get a cranky ass baby who doesn’t even know why she’s cranky but she wants to be left alone. The poops that are so bad that they explode all up her front and her back, pee through the clothes, you know the average baby stuff. It doesn’t seem like much but every set back adds up and by the time I’m done I just feel defeated and want to hang out with my baby, to take it easy. I don’t have the energy anymore to pick up or do whatever else household chore. Am I alone here? Don’t I deserve to kick it?

What I really need to work on is maybe waking up before my baby in the morning so I can get ready or perhaps get things done around the house before she’s up and needing me . But she’s a morning person and gets up early and lucky me, throughout the day she refuses to nap! Although lately we’ve been working on midmorning naps in her crib. We’re getting there! She goes to bed at 7pm on the dot every night…that kid lalalaloves her bedtime. I do too but I need to work on going to bed earlier. But once she’s down for the night is when I get to spend time with my fiance, or read, catch up on my programs, write my blog posts and more. It’s “me” time that I so desperately refuse to give up.

But I need to find a happy medium.

Am I even making sense here? Can any mommas relate? Tips? Advice? Hit me with your best words of wisdom. Thank you in advance, much love all ❤

 

First Impression; Best Friends For Life Husband and Wife.

Cigarettes can kill but they can also help you meet the love of your life.

2011 into 2012 MGMT said it best, the band described my life in a nutshell. “I’m feelin’ rough I’m feelin’ raw I’m in the prime of my life.” I was 19, and had really bloomed into my own. I was about to study abroad in France, had a plan to move into my own place once I was home and the word shy was not in my vocabulary. It’s funny because the qualities that people love about me are sometimes the qualities in which people cannot stand about me. I was (and still am) loud, a chatterbox, and confident. And back then I had this bright firey ginger color hair that was literally the cherry on top for my unknowingly secret admirer close by. (And so did he!)

In two of my journalism classes sat behind me was a tall, lanky, cute yet very quiet guy.

I was a smoker, sorry mom! 

In February of 2012 I was standing outside of a building before class and lit up a smoke. Right across from me doing the same was the tall, lanky, cute yet quiet boy. This is my moment, the time to swoop in and make my move!

I puffed, “hey.”

He puffed, “hi.”

I exhaled, “I see we’re in some of the same classes.”

He exhaled, “yeah.”

I puffed, “I’m Morgan.”

He puffed, “I’m Nick.”

We ended up talking a bit more here and there throughout the next few weeks since we were due to go to France together. Ultimately we decided to stick along side one another because we were the only two smokers in the group that was due to leave the country. If you are, or were a smoker, you can understand how smoking bonds other smokers together. Weird I know but true. It wasn’t instant but it was love at second.

Cue the MGMT. No we didn’t shoot heroin but we fucked with the stars and drank a lot of Heineken and Magners. The Moulin Rogue, kissing atop the Eiffel Tower, holding hands walking through the parks, eating french cuisine among the many cafes whilst smoking and people watching were among the many activities that grew us closer together. Still to this day those are some of the most memorable times of my life. At the time, my 19 year old self swore to my friends he was my soulmate. I believed it. He was an amazing writer, attractive, we had the same likes when it came to music, and we played well off of each others sense of humor. Plain and simple we always had fun.

Unfortunately when we came home, sooner rather than later our fling was over. I was hurt but I moved forward. I still had big things on my horizon. Throughout the next three years we would see or talk to each other every nine months or so. (Foreshadowing? Maybe!) I truthfully never thought we’d ever spend more than a couple of hours with each other ever again, I would have bet my life on it. Well good thing I didn’t because I’d have been way way way wrong.

Fast forward to 2015 and we end up reconnecting while I was working as a manager for Pier 1 Imports. His mother had placed and order for director chair covers and his father came to pick them up. I had never met him but he was a spitting image of Nick, or I guess rather Nick was a spitting image of him. Making a long story short I told him I was Nicks friend from Paris and to tell him I say hi. He did, which was surprising because lets face it men suck at relaying messages. But Nick texted me the day after and invited me over for dinner. Needless to say I went on a whim, not expecting much. And we’ve been together every day since. It could be love or it could be that I showed up with a 30 rack of beer haha. I bet he’d say it was the booze.

Not even a year later we were engaged on top of a mountain. One of the most intense, colorful and adventurous days of my life. Pouring rain, 40 mph winds, 15 degree temperature… Nick looks at me and I shout over my senses being assaulted and say “isn’t this crazy??” He shouts back “Yeah, do you wanna know something else crazy?” So I shout back “what?” He pulls out this beautiful round rose gold Morganite stone engagement ring and says “will you marry me?” Tears. So many sobbing tears poured from my face. I said yes obviously but unlike a normal person that wasn’t my first response. My reaction was “are you serious??” and then “does my mom know??” Both to which he said yes. I’m very untraditional in a lot of ways but I was so pleased and grateful he asked my parents permission. 

Wedding plans were in the midst but were put on hold because of reasons. But as our entire story to date has shown, everything happens for a reason. The same year we were set to get married was the same year we found out we were expecting our little baby blueberry. We were elated. So happy, so eager and so thrilled. We couldn’t wait to make our duo a trio, to become parents and raise a kick ass beach baby and animal lover. I was hoping for a daughter, he was hoping for a son but either way we clearly just wanted a healthy baby. Throughout my pregnancy Nick and I grew up fast. We went from partying every night to quitting smoking, we bought a home, we remodeled said home. It was all so scary and nerve-wracking but we did it all in six short months, despite my hormonal mood swings. I absolutely refused to not have everything prepared and safe for my baby’s arrival. We time crunched for sure.

Flash to December 18, 2017 and our beautiful daughter Maxly Coraline was born. Our family was finally a true family now, even though we already had two cats, a dog and a tortoise. But we were complete. We were the Matson Family. We hate the terms “baby momma” and “baby daddy” but we do use them from time to time as a joke, or even as a term of endearment. It makes us laugh, it keeps things light. I could never thank Nick enough for making me a mommy. I could never thank him enough for giving me the daughter I had always dreamt of. The love we have is unconditional. Even if we spat,  we are good and back to normal laughing within 10 minutes. Its just how we flow. We have to, life is too short and it takes too much energy to be unhappy with one another. It’s just not worth it to be angry, especially now that we are role models for our daughter. I have never met a person who has seen and experienced every nook of my life. He really has seen me at my highest and at my lowest point. And we’ve gone through our problems too – don’t get me wrong, but when I found out I was pregnant we worked so hard to be the best versions of ourselves so we could be the most supreme team for our daughter. And that’s where we’re at now.

“I’ve seen you with blonde hair, I’ve seen you with red hair, I’ve seen you with black hair, and now brown, and one day I’ll see you with gray.” Probably the most romantic thing he’s ever said to me. He is my partner. My partner in parenting, partner in drinking, partner in love, and partner in life.

I do love and live by the saying “happy wife happy life” but our motto has really become best friends for life husband and wife.

 

 

The Let Down; How The New Netflix Series Lifts Moms Up

Newly released to Netflix, Australian Productions presents us with The Let Down.  A raw comedy series with powerful insight to the “Twilight Zone period of becoming a new parent”, specifically for new mom Audrey (depicted by Alison Bell). Along with Audrey losing her identity outside of being a mom, sleep deprivation. struggling to breastfeed – she also lacks support from her partner Jeremy (casted by Duncan Fellows), her mother and her parentless friends. This series doesn’t portrays motherhood as “The Holy Grail” as it’s normally seen. This is the kind of show that will bring you right back down to Earth. As a recent first time Mom myself, I absolutely loved and binged this show. The Australian Comedy Series is full of such relatable raw moments and underlying humor.

Episode one opens dark, it’s late night, in a park. With poor Mombie Audrey (yes, Mombie, a “mom zombie“) trying to sleep in her parked car after driving around her (now) sleeping two month old baby Stevie. Just as she doses off she gets a knock on her window from a drug dealer who tells her to get out of his office. Since poor Stevie doesn’t sleep well at night it’s a reoccurring thing, driving through the park, that Aud and the drug dealer cross paths so much, they develop a quirky bond throughout the episodes.

Poor Audrey just fancy’s the usual sips of coffee, alcohol, sex, a social life and some gosh darn support. Hearing some nice and complementary comments along the way can really have an impact on your mentality, especially if you’re a (new) mom, especially if you’re like Audrey. If someone asked her, “how are you really?” I think she would have been through the roof.  Since she isn’t getting the back up she needs and deserves from friends, husband or mum, she seeks her own comfort and turns to a mommy group.

Skeptical and feeling uninvited at first, the mommy group, made up of a group leader, three other moms and one dad, become her backbone. Although at first the moms seem to have it all together, Audrey comes to find that everyone has their own troubles and inadequacies. The troop demonstrates different types of parenting techniques, outside family dynamics, personal struggles, tales of their horrid birth stories and experiences of personal mom shaming. As the support grows stronger, unique friendships are formed.

Parenthood, specifically motherhood, is trial and error. Even though I already knew this and am experiencing it myself… it’s still relieving to see Audrey and the other group moms/dad going through the same troubles, self doubt and lack of confidence I sometimes struggle with. I don’t want to see anyone else suffer but it’s reassuring to know it’s perfectly normal.

The Let Down also confirmed that sometimes keeping secrets from your significant other is okay. For instance Audrey goes on a weekend getaway and leaves baby Stevie with clueless Dad. He can’t get her to eat and calls over a couple of moms from the mom group, one of which breastfeeds Stevie. Instantly as the baby latches Jeremy goes “Do we tell Audrey??” And in unison they loudly say “Noooooooooooooo!” Or when Audrey ends up in the wrong group meeting and bumps into her drug dealer friend, but stays because it rejuvenates her sense of self. Or just for the fact that she never mentioned the drug dealer pal until he catches her and her husband fooling around in the car – some secrets are okay and it’s okay to keep somethings to yourself if it’s not hurting anyone. It’s the thrill of the small things I’d say.

The Let Down is funny and a mirror image to real life. The series encouraged me to feel less crazy and more sane. What Audrey came to discover and what I discovered is that most moms always seem so put together. And sometimes we are, but sometimes we aren’t. You should not be afraid to let your emotions show and to feel vulnerable. We’re all in the same boat. We’re all mothers trying to do the best for our children.

You’ll reminisce, you’ll cry, you’ll laugh, you’ll relate. The Let Down will not let you down.

 

 

 

 

Sticks & Bones May Break Their Bones, But Words Can Do The Same.

As a parent but especially as a mom I have a bunch of (probably mostly irrational) fears when it comes to my daughter. Hell she was in my womb for nine full months. I literally grew her from scratch. I want to protect that child from the bottom of her feet to the top of her little head. And all of that in between. Including her brain and most importantly her heart. I will do all that I can to make sure she’s not in harms way. And if she does find herself in harms way, I intend to raise her strong so she can deal with it in a healthy manner. What I’m fearing as a mom I know is normal… and what a good parent should be feeling. I worry about kidnapping, car accidents, chocking, their overall health, etc. What uneases me the most though is bullying. I am beyond terrified that my daughter will face bullying as I did. I wouldn’t wish that pain and defeat even on the kids who bullied me. So to imagine my daughter having the same thing happen to her. I want to cry. Ugh so many shivers go down my spine. I tear at just the thought of it. My baby is only four months old but as we know time flies and sooner than later my daughter will be in school and I’ll have to worry of the taunting from other children. Great. As we all know kids can be so cruel. SO CRUEL. How do we fix this? How do I prepare my daughter to potentially have to deal with this? I’ll tell you one thing… it all starts at home so that’s exactly what I’ll do. My dear sweet Maxly, I hope mommy teaches you to love yourself and love others. About confidence. I hope I prepare you well my darling girl.

My daughter has Abortive Hemangioma on the bottom of her hand throughout her arm where her forearm meets. Also known as a “strawberry.” I know she was born beautiful and I know this mark truly does make her more unique but sadly I also know because of this birthmark, it makes her more apt to be bullied. As I stated earlier, even though she is only four months old I talk to her about her strawberry everyday and will continue to do so everyday. The doctor says it’ll grow with her and she’ll eventually grow out of it but that could take five to ten years. Doesn’t really narrow it down for me there, thanks doc. Her father and I, and our other family members and close family friends will always let her know how beautiful it/she is and she will learn it embrace her mark and realize it truly is a beauty mark. Even putting this aside I still fear children will find other things to pick on her for. Its inevitable. Kids will find ANYTHING to jeer at others.

I was picked on throughout my days of childhood and teenage years but 5th grade and my senior year of high school were the absolute worst. I am just glad I had a strong and loving family behind me and was raised with love, self love, self confidence and forgiveness because if not I might have become another statistic.

I would define a bully as a person, no matter what age, who takes their anger, emotions and / or insecurities out on someone else, usually someone “weaker” than them. I don’t think people crying bully too often – but I could add in that the term itself can be black and white for sure, but each case of “bullying” should be treated with care and individually. I don’t think it’s fair for people to think one person is more or less of a victim than someone else because I was a victim too.

Bullying is a real crises. It’s not just a made up game that people like to “invent.” People think bullying is “crying wolf” and to me that’s mind boggling. I fear that bullying will only get worse as the years go on. It starts at home. Bullying is taught at home but so is dealing with a bully. Your parents are your first teachers. First it starts with having a good home. A loving home. A supportive home. You need to have a home of values, patience and understanding. Teach your child compassion and to treat all others with kindness. Build them up so they’ll too want to build up themselves others! Bullies are usually bullied themselves, or they were raised to think they don’t have to be held accountable for anything. I will not raise my daughter that way. You shouldn’t either.

You must love yourself and realize that you are important and you do matter; amazing and powerful words for your children to live by You and your life are worth it, and that is something you should never forget. The hurtful words by one are nothing compared to the positive shouts of many.

 

 

My Baby Will Not Hinder Me

My baby will not hinder me, my baby will join me. Just because I had a baby doesn’t mean she becomes my ball and chain, as some people seem to think. I will leave our sanctuary. I will leave the house. I will go to the beach. I will still travel, and so will she. Don’t forget if we were meant to stay in one place we’d have roots instead of feet. And upon all the teachable moments in life, this will be one of the first that my daughter will learn as young as she can. 

When people have a baby they think their lives are over. Are they serious? A new, fresh and beautiful chapter of your life just began. It’s such a cliche saying but this is when the adventure truly begins. In my families case we just added another co-pilot to our partnership. Another player to our team, a duo that then became a trio, another travel buddy was born!

Granted I have not been on a plane with her yet but even just at her two month mark, we traveled five hours by car to Upstate New York. Even though I was apprehensive, I can’t hold back and I knew that! I can’t stop visiting my family and friends, and I need to continue to introduce traveling into Maxly’s mind, body and soul. The kid is not even four months old and she’s already been to four different states. That’s farther than some people ever go in their whole life. You go girl!

Before I was a mom, I was always gung-ho for anything! Any type of adventure, spontaneous or planned, I found a way to pull it off. Heck I’ve been to Europe twice and traveled to China. I love traveling amongst the East Coast in the US too but I want to see more, specifically the West Coast. Oops is my wanderlust showing? I mean I do have a World Map tattooed on my body.

I want to continue to travel deeper and I want my daughter to see the world with me, with us. I want to teach her to look at other people and the way they live. To comprehend that it’s not “us living our life” / “them living their lives,” it’s that we’re all united amongst different cultures and living and loving in the world as one. There’s so much to do, see, explore, touch – she will be exposed to our Planet Earth and all of it’s lovely humans.

People are always saying the World is so small but I want to show her how large the World really is. To make memories. To teach her compassion and to be grateful for what she has. I think the negative / stress of traveling outweighs all the good that comes from it. Don’t sweat the small stuff. It’s ok if they’re not eating the healthiest meal, it happens. It’s ok if some naps are missed. What matters is making memories and strengthening your bond as a family. Plus realistically even though children bloom from routine, traveling allows just the opposite, which is unknowingly a good thing. Kids need to learn flexibility so they can be flexible in a world and/or environment that can’t always cater to them. Just because you have kids doesn’t mean life is over. Life is just beginning and life it to the fullest. See and do all of the cool things!