Archives for April 2012

why tv is kind of amazing for kids

April 24, 2012

And the last story from the Betsy & Summer Production archives…

~~~~~~~

We’ll be the first to say it.

Being a stay-at-home mom is hard work.

It’s tough being a martyr.

But we have good news. We’ve found a way to stay home and have smart, well-balanced, and well-behaved children-all the while keeping your sanity.

How?

Get a nanny.

But not just any nanny.

A smart, entertaining, and interesting nanny.

We’ve had the good fortune to have some incredible nannies come in and out of our lives over the years. In fact, due to the endless hours they’ve worked and devoted to our children, we as mothers have hardly had to do anything!

(Other than, of course, keep them fed and alive. That is what we signed up for, right?)

Let’s take a walk down memory lane:

First, there was the baby nanny.

So gentle. So calm. So cultured.

Every day, several times a day, she introduced our babies to classical music in order to help build their brains.

She even showed them amazing, beautiful pictures of art, nature, and bright colorful objects.

When our kids turned from babies to toddlers, we had the good fortune to find a hot Aussie manny. Actually, not just one, but four!

Every day they’d come into our home and sing songs, do funny dances, and teach our kids that fruit salad was yummy yummy.

But there was only so much singing and dancing that we could handle.

It was time to find someone a little more sophisticated.

It was time to go bilingual.

Our next nanny was a cute little thing.

Every day, she brought a backpack stuffed with toys to entertain our kids.

With her, every day was an adventure.

She even taught our kids how to stand up to bullies-not just in English, but in Spanish as well!

(Although isn’t “no!” the same in Spanish and English?)

Once our kids had mastered the basic Spanish language, we felt it was time to move on to letter recognition.

The new nannies -a group of siblings- not only taught them their letters and sounds, but also how to put letters together to make words!

Amazing!

Our kids were some of the smartest ones on the block before they even got to preschool.

Junior Mensa, here we come.

By now you’ve got to be wondering, how can a pair of stay-at-home moms afford such quality childcare . . . and so much of it?

We’ll let you in on a little secret:

Just get your remote.

Dig it out from under the couch cushions, where it’s hiding among the stale Cheerios and missing sippy cups.

What?!?

Oh, yes, fellow Mummies, we are talking about the TV.

The cheapest nanny you’ll ever find!

Apart from paying a small fee to your cable company every month, it’s free.

Even better, if you have some kind of On-Demand program, you can pick and choose your nannies at any time of the day, any day of the week.

And they’ll work as long and hard as you need them to.

Remember, cable doesn’t charge overtime.

But wait-don’t judge us.

We do have standards.

For instance, we would never let our virtual nannies into the kids’ bedrooms.

And just as we would “screen” a real babysitter, we also did our research with our virtual nannies.

We evaluated all the possible shows and allowed only the best, most qualified ones to come into our homes.

Really, how can you go wrong with Baby Einstein, the Wiggles, Dora, and Leap, Lily, and Tad?

We’d never introduce our children to Barney (annoying), or SpongeBob (where’s the educational value in that?), Teletubbies (um, language skills?), Lazytown (creepy), Arthur (have you seen the way he treats his sister?), or Higglytown Heroes (delivering pizzas makes you a hero? We don’t think so).

{although, we won’t judge you if these shows happen to be your cup of tea. we’re moms that get it…no judging here!}

So for those of you moms who have been feeling guilty about your child’s viewing habits, now you can proudly proclaim that you are expanding their vocabularies, teaching them music and art, and even introducing them to new languages!

Really, we’re doing it for the children.

And if that doesn’t qualify us for the Mother of the Year Award, we don’t know what does.

To those of you who don’t even own a TV, we’ll say this: You are better women than we are.

Without such digital magic available to us, we would almost certainly be buying stock in Bev Mo.

So on that note, pick up your glasses.

(Not the kind you wear-we’re not that old yet!)

Let’s say “Cheers!” to the nannies of the digital age.

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alone with my thoughts, unedited

April 18, 2012

I can’t sleep tonight.

Thoughts are swirling around inside my mind, jumbled thoughts and images and memories, and I know I need to give them God.

And I did, a little.
But sometimes I express myself better to God not in thoughts or spoken prayers…but in words. In writing. When I just let go and write, out comes the truth of my soul.

the soul he already sees and knows….and he just waits for me to find it.

So, here I sit alone in my living room with nothing but the glow of my laptop and hum of the kitchen….doing something I rarely do….

I am just writing.

There is no direction, no idea what I will share or how it will end.
No lesson to teach, more so just hopes that a lesson will be learned.
That through my writing, God will show up and make sense of the thoughts that are keeping me awake.

I think about Taylor…and how he’s almost 7. And I don’t know why suddenly 7 seems so significant, but I am amazed at how it really did pass in a blink of an eye.

i get now what they mean when they say life is short….

I look at him and I am in awe. In awe at who he is. At who he is becoming. And at how he is SO much like his dad, and so much like me, and yet he is so much his own person.

And I am proud.

Because he is better than I could have dreamed or hoped.

And I feel relief….because I didn’t know what I was doing.

i still don’t.

But in 7 years I have let go so much of the control.

I have learned to love unconditionally.

I have learned strength.

I have come to LOVE being a mom….even on the hard days.

I wouldn’t trade them even on the hard days.

And then my thoughts turn to where I am now. How I am so different now. More aware, yet more confused. Confident yet still insecure and unsure.

I wonder what God is doing with me. Where is He taking me?

What IS my purpose?

Leading the youth?

Speaking?

Writing?

And then I think….

It’s been 4 years.

Four years that I’ve been writing here on Le Musings of Moi.
And it’s grown…a little.
And there have been opportunities….plenty.

And I cherish the growth and the opportunities and I even put them all into a folder called encouragement…

but…

But, when I compare this place to others that started when I did, or even to newer blogs with more success (and i know i shouldn’t….), I feel as though I can’t keep up.
And I wonder…

If something is good, isn’t there growth?
And if there isn’t, is it time to let it go?

To give up the dream.

Where do I go from here?

And then I’m back to thinking about where God has me now.
I feel a shift happening…a change.
A stirring.

I remember back to just days ago when we were planting and sweeping and preparing for spring, and I was overwhelmed with a feeling that things were soon to be different.

And sitting here now, I wonder….what was that feeling?
It settled me then, but it confuses me now.

And in and out of all those concrete thoughts are moments of sadness for the people I know and know of that are hurting, and struggling, and probably up tonight as well with swirling thoughts of their own.

dear jesus, i can’t sleep tonight.

and this is me.

alone with my thoughts.

i pray you hear me and through your Holy Spirit, you find meaning in it all.

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you are never "too much" for a true friend

April 17, 2012

The last few years God has truly been filtering out and rearranging my friendship circle. At the time it was incredibly hurtful and very uncomfortable, and I most definitely didn’t quite get what God was allowing and why….but now???

Now I get it, and I am SO THANKFUL.

Sometimes I look at my husband and kids…

and then look beyond to my circle of friends,

and then go even further beyond to our church and my online community (YOU!)…

and suddenly I am overwhelmed with tears and awe.

{a little mush mush, i know.}

But, I certainly wouldn’t know the depths of these relationships had I not walked through some seasons of droughts and testing.

I absolutely would not know who my true friends are had they not seen me at my very worst…..

and loved me through it.

I wouldn’t appreciate the support, or the hearts, or the stories, or the intent….

had I not experienced all that God has allowed me to walk through.

A lot of my life I have felt misunderstood.

Or felt different.

I may have been surrounded, but a lot of the time I felt Alone.

I’ve said it before, I just always felt (and told) I was “too much…” of whatever it may be.

But these last few years, when I was at the peak of some of that “too much,” that is when God not only refined me….but he also refined my definition of friendship.

And He showed me that I would never be “too much” for the ones that were meant to be.

The friends I have now are my family.
They are my forever friends…and I don’t doubt that for a moment.

When you have walked through the mud and they are still there walking with you….you just know.

It turns out, the friends God chose for me are absolutely WORTH the heartache I felt in losing the ones I had chosen for myself.
It’s not to say they weren’t necessarily good people….they just didn’t or couldn’t understand.
Or they just happened not to be right for me, for my life….or perhaps vice versa.

I know that being abandoned, or dumped, or suddenly ignored without any explanation from someone you loved and trusted hurts.

I’ve been there.

I know the pain of baring your soul to someone, only to have them misunderstand your heart….

I’ve felt that.

I know what it’s like to expose your weaknesses only to have them thrown back in your face as way of hurting you.

But, I also know that the pain of all of that begins to heal the moment you give it to God, and you just say….

“Okay God. You know better than me. Bring me the right friends at the right time.”

And HE WILL.

And they will be your angels.

God has surrounded me with them…
and finally I feel comforted, protected, loved and UNDERSTOOD….
and it’s feels incredible.

“…it feels like home to me….”

It’s a glimpse of Him…

and that you guys…

is what heals all hurts and wounds.

Never stop praying.

Never stop being exactly who you are….

Because you will find your people…your angels…and you WILL be blessed.

{p.s. YOU are my people. YOU have been my angels. Thank you for investing into me, and this blog, and for showing me what it’s meant to look like.}

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why breastfeeding can just suck it

April 11, 2012

And yet another Betsy & Summer production….

Another side of breastfeeding:

~~~~~~~

We know, we know. We’ll say it before you do. Breastfeeding provides your baby with all the best nutrients-nutrients that formula can’t possibly mimic. It’s a bonding experience with your baby. It gives your baby immunities that will last his or her whole life.

But before you judge us, remember that it takes a strong (and brave) woman to put it out there and say what we’re about to.

And know we absolutely respect those who are able to do it.

It takes a special-and genetically blessed-woman to whip out her boob, sometimes in public, and feed her baby on demand. In fact, we wish it had been different for us.

After all, breastfeeding is way cheaper!

Blah, blah, blah.

At the risk of ticking off the entire La Leche League and scores of Dr. Sears attachment parenting advocates, we’re going to say it out loud:

Breastfeeding Can Suck It.

My (Summer’s) experience with breastfeeding was a painful one.

Painful in my ever-growing boobs, and even more painful in my heart.

I tried, oh how I tried.

Trust me, I did not want to warrant any evil looks or risk having my diaper bag egged for whipping out the “F” word.

FORMULA.

Oh yes, I said it.

But hear me out.

Once you hear the dramatic tale, you will want to rub my back and buy me dinner.

Even you, La Leche Leaguers!

My dear boy was a hungry one.

So hungry, in fact, that he wanted to suck the nipple right off, possibly in hopes that it would provide an endless supply of milk.

It was, needless to say, excruciating.

Every time he latched on, I suddenly found myself with a mild case of Tourret’s, yelling “SH*!” or “F!&$!”

Along with some other expletives that a Christian Momma should not be saying around her newborn. My sister and I used to joke that his first word could quite possibly be the “F” word, and in this case I don’t mean FORMULA.

So, I did what every new mom does.

I took it to the guru of all gurus.

The lovely Eve, Queen of all Lactation Consultants.

I was told by many that she was the “OZ” of the breastfeeding world.

She was the one with the answers.

She would solve my problems.

About five minutes into my consultation, she asked me to whip it out and show her what I had been doing.

As I ever so slowly revealed my dangling nipple, I heard a gasp.

Eve’s face was pale.

And as quickly as she asked me to whip it out, she this time asked me to put it away.

And then I heard what I never thought a lactation consultant could say.

“My dear, never ever nurse on those things again.”

It was all I needed to hear.

What came next was music to my ears:

“In all my 30 years of doing this, I have never seen such intense nipple damage!”

Oh yes, it was bad.

But I had been so determined to make it work that I was going to lose a nipple for the cause.

Also, one thing to know about a dangling nipple: it causes infection.

Or better named, mastitis.

Four times in four months.

Nipple loss + mastitis = post partum depression.

But I managed to marry my pump for better or worse for another three months, until I came to the resolve that I had done all I could.

I said to “F” with it.

And by “F” I mean “formula.”

Freaking Fantastic Formula.

And that is why I say, Breastfeeding Can Just Suck It.

{for me!}

Betsy, take it away.

Like Summer, I (Betsy) tried to nurse.

I really, really did. I actually had the lofty goal of making it nine months.

I believed that anything less would be a failure.

And for that, I blame the Nursing Nazis.

(You know who they are.)

For some reason, all the crazies come out of the woodwork when you have a baby.

Case in point: Right after my daughter, Lily, was born, I answered the door to greet a home nurse who was wearing a lanyard that read, “Breastfed babies are the happiest babies.”

I had red, bleeding nipples, but I was determined to give my daughter only the best, so I let this Nursing Nazi manhandle me and instruct me on proper latching techniques.

“Has she had any formula in the last week?” the milkmaid asked me.

“Well, maybe two ounces. Just to give myself a break,” I said timidly.

The milkmaid gave me a disapproving look and said, “Hmmph. Well, instead of giving her formula, you should take Vicodin so you can nurse through the pain.”

Excuse me?

You’d rather have me drug my newborn baby by taking one of the most powerful painkillers on the market instead of giving her a few ounces of formula?

What kind of crazy is that?

Actually, it’s the kind of crazy that will make you consciously subject your boobs, again and again, to a hunger of a pint-size piranha.

That will make you think that it’s necessary to walk around the house without a bra or shirt so that your nipples can “breathe.”

That will compel you to go through tubes and tubes of lanolin in a misguided effort to “soothe.”

This is why I tell every newly pregnant woman about the nipple shield, God’s greatest invention.

Better to get it before the baby comes than to have to send your husband to Target in the dead of night, telling him to look for something you’ve vaguely described as “some nipple thing” while you and the baby are both at home screaming.

(I seriously have the best husband in the world.)

The nipple shield saved my boobs and sanity, but only for a few months.

Then, like Summer, I was hit with a nasty case of mastitis.

But did I stop? Noooo.

I kept trying to nurse every two hours even though I was shivering, clammy, and my boobs were on fire.

My milk supply was cut in half and turning a color that nature hadn’t intended.

So I did what any crazy mom would do: I took fenugreek to boost my milk supply-and kept trying even when the fenugreek gave me mastitis on the other side.

This was my breastfeeding low-point.

It was Thanksgiving, and while everyone else was downstairs feasting on turkey, I was upstairs pumping and crying.

The next day, I called a local lactation consultant, blubbering about what to do.

Believe it or not, she encouraged me to stop.

Of course, because I had a predilection for mastitis, I couldn’t stop cold turkey. I had to wean. Slowly. With cabbage leaves.

Over the course of about six weeks.

Which then made me feel like I was on house arrest, because I was hooked up to the breast pump every two hours.

Then every two hours and fifteen minutes.

Then every two and a half hours.

You get the idea.

Cabbage leaves, mastitis, and mangled nipples?

Yes.

But those aren’t the only reasons we didn’t love breastfeeding.

It’s not just the physical pain.

It’s the fact that breast milk is like Chinese food-your baby will be hungry again after an hour.

That you have no idea how much food your child is actually getting.

That no one else can feed the baby.

That your hormones will overtake you and make you feel like a failure if you don’t listen to La Leche and nurse until the child is at least five.

Speaking of crazy, you must be thinking that we should join the Witness Protection Program after writing this article.

But, no, dear sisters.

We say it loud and we say it proud.

Because we just know there are some of you out there who feel just as we do.

And it’s okay.

We still love our babies.

They are still happy and healthy, and witty and pretty.

So, lets all join hands and say it together:

“BREASTFEEDING CAN JUST SUCK IT.”

{for those of us with dangling bleeding mastitis ridden boobies/nipples}

On the other hand….

for those of you it works for….

Breast IS Best.

xoxo

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what no one told me about my 20’s

April 10, 2012

What No One Told Me About My 20’s, and if they had, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have listened….

I was one of those girls waaaaaay back in my teens and 20’s who could never be told anything.

I didn’t want or need advice because I had it ALL figured out.

I knew better.

I saw things more clearly.

I had life by the reigns and I was in control.

{oh how i wish i had that now in my 30’s, cause now i’ll take ANYONES help and advice!}

My first wake up call was about the age of 19.

I’d been a bit wild and reckless, both with guys and partying for a few years, you know…just going through the normal teenage rebellion type phase.

But one night at a party, when things started to get heated and emotional, I sat there watching it all unfold and all I could think was, “What has become of my life? Who are these people, and are they even my friends? Why am I even here being involved with stuff like this?”

I went home that New Years Eve night and wrote out all that I wanted to change in my life….and the next day I woke up and made a decision to walk away from that crowd and that way of life.

I got back involved with my church, and then a few months later decided to pack up and drive to California to start all over.

All by myself, not knowing a single person.

It sounded lovely and amazing.

Now in my mid 30’s, I think doing such a thing would send me into a panic attack.

But that’s the the thing about your 20’s.

You’re still kind of a child, but also starting to ease into adult life a little more.

For me at that age, it was about taking risks.

Being wild and free.

Loving hard, and feeling deeply….

There is so much more to this story….

….to read the rest of this post and hear what one of my greatest life lessons was,

go check my guest post today on the series,

“What nobody told me about in my 20’s.”

It’s all happening this week over at one of my fave blogs,

The Girl That Sings.

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suffer to bless

April 6, 2012

You guys.

YOU GUYS!!!

You have no idea, just no idea how God uses you guys to LIFT me up and BLESS me.

I didn’t actually write about my week last week, because I needed to process my emotions.

And woah, there was sort of a whole lot of them.

I know, who’s suprised by that, show of hands?

That’s right, nobody.

Same show, different day.

BUT….

Oh my word.

Even though I was feeling, and dealing, and processing stuff in my own little world….somehow some of you just knew.

God’s kind of amazing like that.

He tells my secrets to those of you who get it just at the moment when he knows they need to be shared.

And without fail, every single day there was an unexpected email or comment or message that was JUST what I needed for that day.

A story.
A testimony.
A scripture.
A devotion.
A confession.
Promise of prayers…..
Whatever it was, I hope you know it was a HUG FROM GOD right when I needed it.

I LOVE THAT!!!!

You thank me for being open and for saying the things you are afraid to let out….

and I know it’s scary.

It once was for me too.

Sometimes it still is.

I wonder what people think.

{I wonder and I care…which sometimes sucks.}

Am I too needy?

Too sensitive

Too emotional?

Too “a whole lotta….”

You know what I mean.

{the stuff i’ve been called my whole life….and not always in an uplifting way.}

But this is where I have to let it all out.
I have to share.
God’s made that much clear to me….

And I will continue to share because of YOU.

Because of your emails, because of your comments, because of YOUR bravery to share with me.
Because I know that by exposing our lives (good, bad, and ugly) and by just being REAL about it….hopefully more of us will feel less alone.

We will still all have our issues…duh.

We had parents….

And that’s what happens when you have parents.

But now we have each other….living life and being honest and getting through our issues together.

And isn’t it better when you have a hand to hold through it all?

So, the truth is…last week sucked.

Well not all of it, but some of it.

And then I realized (because an incredible friend pointed it out to me)….well of course it’s hard sometimes….

I’ve been praying that God would use me.

I’ve been praying that I would have a heart more like His.

And my friend pointed out, that when you ask for those things in prayer to be prepared….

because God will give us the desires of our hearts.

And sometimes it’s NOT like what we imagine.

God created me this way.
Deep feeling, emotional, empathic, emotional (it deserves to be said twice), sensitive, and yes…
“a whole lotta….”
But, in all that….there is still less of Him and more of me.

So, He sets out to help me grow.
And in order to grow and to be strong, I believe there is an amount of suffering.
{the story of the butterfly}

And how amazing that He thinks enough of me to allow me to go through that process???

The same goes for you.

For each of you that emailed, that have commented, or just lurk (love you lurkers too!)…

or for any of you feeling lost and hurt and alone and confused….

Please know….

YOU ARE BEING REFINED into something BEAUTIFUL.

{weheartit}

WE ARE!!!!

TOGETHER!!!

And we have this little place that is safe.

You can share, or not share….but you can always come here and know you are loved and respected and understood.

You are not alone in ANY of this.

AND?

If you email me AFTER 10 in the morning, I might even be able to make you laugh at something you didn’t think you’d ever find the humor in.

Before 10?
I’ll just cry with you.

~~~~~~~

I had to share all this with you today….because it’s Good Friday.

The day Jesus suffered and died for us.

Jesus suffered.

Oh my word, did he ever….

And through His suffering He understood and felt and TOOK ON every pain we would ever feel.

He suffered more than you and I will ever know.

And He did it because He loved each and every one of us.

If anyone understands your heart, it’s Him.

I believe He died AND rose again…
And He did it to give us hope…

to give us eternal life.

~~~~~~~

Happy Easter…
xoxo

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jimmy & the hunger games

April 5, 2012

I didn’t plan on posting today, but then I saw Kat’s writing prompt, and thought I’d share my Instagram picture from last night….

So, last night….we got to go see The Hunger Games.
I read all three books last year in like a minute.
Maybe two, because that last one took me a bit.

{I mean, come on, Katniss….buck up and get off the drugs already! oops, did i spoil it? kidding!!!!}

And while I tried to engage Jimmy the entire time I was reading, I just couldn’t convince him that opening a book that didn’t pertain to Physics was actually a fun thing to do.

Because of this, I was quite excited to take him to see the movie with me, so he could FINALLY see all the reasons I knew he would SO be into the series.

And on our way, while he was voicing his deep personal thoughts about life….I, being the multitasker that I am, listened and acknowledged his feelings all while snapping pictures.

This one in particular was what I thought his reaction to the movie would be…

{once again, now that you have the story.}

Okay, so he didn’t have QUITE that reaction, but I’m kind of thinking he did catch the bug.

Also, he’s dying to know who Katniss chooses in the end.

But, I won’t tell him.

Because I need to teach him that reading for FUN is FUN.

Btw, he says it should be Peeta because…

“He proved that he loved and valued Katniss more then he loved and valued his own life.”
And then he squeezed me close, and I think in his mind for a bit, we were actually Katniss and Peeta walking back to the car.
{why does that happen to guys when they watch a movie??? after it’s over they start thinking they’re actually the lead action guy….does your guy do that too?}

Either way….it’s sweet.

And in real life….he’s better than Peeta and Gale put together.

Awe, shucks….
Now who’s sweet???

Maybe I am just like Katniss….

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the good, the bad, the "oh no i’m ugly" side of motherhood

April 3, 2012

Another article from Betsy and me….

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~

It was my husband’s high school reunion, and I (Betsy) looked gooood. After three exhausting hours at the mall, I had found exactly the right dress-which hit me in all the right places, in a bright, look-at-me pattern-and a pair of killer heels. My hair was root-free, done two weeks before the event so that the color would have a chance to “settle.” My skin was glowing, thanks to a tub of expensive microdermabrasion cream that I’d read about in a magazine, and it was uncharacteristically tan, thanks to diligent applications of self-tanner. My teeth were just the right shade of white, and my makeup was perfect.

Sigh. Those were the days. The pre-kid days, that is.

I used to live for fashion, never wanting to repeat the same outfit in a week.
Now my closet consists of Old Navy tanks, which I buy every year in multiples, and one or two pairs of sweats that my poor husband has to see me in practically every day.
(Does it count that they’re Juicy?)
I comfort myself with the idea that at least I’m being environmentally conscious.
The tanks get recycled every year, with the somewhat stained ones going into the workout drawer, and the really stained ones going into the sleepwear drawer. And that’s not just me.

Yeah, before kids I (Summer) was with it, too.
Almost all the time.
My bras and underwear matched, and in fact I didn’t even know that they had underwear that covered the butt way back then.
I showered and washed my hair every morning, and even took the appropriate hour to blow dry and style.
I loved makeup, and I never left the house without eyeliner.

Now, I too have drawers full of the exact same sweats.
But in several colors, you know, to throw people off. I like to make them think I’m wearing something new.
I also have fifteen Hanes tank tops for men that, of course, I wear sans the bra.
Daily.
(I should mention boobs are a whole other subject, and yes, there will come a day that a bra won’t help keep them perky, so you kind of give up a little. Just me?)
Then, right next to those are the twenty pairs of full-coverage underwear (okay, okay….maternity undies) that I could never go a night without sleeping in.
(I have one lucky husband!)

My problem is that I’m still in denial.
Half my closet admits that, yes, I am indeed a mom of two, but the other half is sure that any day a massive wave of social events will hit my life.
On that side are dressy jeans, high-heeled boots, and sassy stylin’ tops.
Everything on that side was purchased on one of those days when I just felt that I couldn’t take another day of sweats even if my life depended on it.
With a wild hair up my butt, I’d leave the kids with my man, and then I stop, drop, and roll off to the mall.
I then fill my arms with the trendy high-fashion items I’ve been drooling over in the magazines, and I spend hours in the dressing room savoring every moment in the to-die-for outfits.

We’re kind of sad, huh?
We know.
But don’t pretend you don’t know exactly what we’re talking about.

Look, we don’t care what anyone says: After you have kids, your looks are never quite the same.
Because no matter how hard you try, there will always be something a little off:
Dark circles you can’t hide. Spit-up on your shirt that you thought you had blotted out.
Three-day-old hair.
{which is healthy for your hair, btw! just sayin’!}
Stretch marks, despite the fact that you spent hours rubbing expensive “miracle” coco butter all over your stomach.

Because as much as you love and adore them, your children have a way of sucking the good looks (and mental health) right out of you.

Instead of spending hours at the mall looking for just the right outfit, you spend hours at the park in your sweats. Because even if you had the time to go shopping, you wouldn’t want to drag your toddler with you. Because your child will inevitably throw a grand mal tantrum on the floor of the dressing room the minute you’re ready to start trying on jeans.
So you resort to ordering hoodies online because-who are you kidding?-you don’t have any place to wear that cute top anyway.
And instead of spending an hour blow-drying and expertly putting on makeup, you let your hair air-dry in the car and hope you hit the stoplights just right so you can put on a few swipes of mascara.

This doesn’t happen overnight.
It just creeps up on you until one day you find yourself staring at the cute girl in the grocery store who obviously just got off work.
The cute girl that, just five years ago, was you.

Let’s recap a conversation we once had on a walk with our “gackle.”
(a group of our mom friends in our neighborhood)

Betsy: “Summer, how come your hair looks so cute today? It’s 9:00 am! There should be rules against that kind of thing.”

Summer: “Don’t worry. This headband is just disguising the fact that it’s been four days since I’ve washed my hair.”

Betsy (admiringly): “I’m so jealous! I wish I could go that long and still have my hair look decent. I can only go two or three days at the most.”

At this point, several of our friends jumped in and started bragging about how long they’d gone without showering.
Even after hitting the gym.

To clarify: These are not your mousy, stamp-party moms.
These are cute, stylish, hottie moms.
The kind of moms that got “Most Beautiful Eyes” in high school, were the president of their sorority, and had all the guys drooling after them.

Yes, things have gotten so bad among our gackle friends that now when we get dressed up, we call it “going undercover.”

Let’s explain:

You show up to an event-church, a dinner, or a party-and for once, you’re all done up.
Then someone comes up to you and says, “Wow, you look great! I almost didn’t recognize you. Did you change your hair?”

You: “Nope.”

Other person: “New outfit?”

You: “Nope.”

Other person: “Lose weight?”

You (finally getting it): “Uh, I think it’s that I showered.”

See, even when we do try it’s not the same.

Take for example, the birthday party I (Summer) went to last weekend.
I thought I had my stuff together.
I showered, washed my hair, and I even brushed my teeth all before noon!
I had on cute jeans, a new ruffled tank top, and pointy-toed flats.
I was cool; I was hip.
I was not going to be the mom that let herself go.

When we arrived at the house, I noticed a sign on the door.
A big sign that was going to force me to show that I, indeed, did not have it all together.
That sign said, “Please Remove Your Shoes.”

It had been weeks since I’d updated my toes, and the polish was beyond chipped.
Everyone was going to find me out.
So I did what any normal person would.
I pretended I didn’t see the sign and walked in with my shoes.
At which point the hostess said, “Hey, Summer, can you please take off your shoes?”
So I took the walk of shame back to the hallway, discarded my shoes, and tried to keep my toes curled under all during the party.

But don’t lose heart, mamas.
Fortunately, there is a light at the end of this sad and ugly tunnel.

Just last weekend, I (Betsy) embarked on another marathon shopping trip. For the first time in a long time, my husband and I had cash-the glamorous reason being that we’d just sold our junk at a garage sale-and the money was burning a hole in our pockets. We took our daughter, Lily, to get some summer clothes, and then we started looking for ourselves. The whole time, I kept waiting for my almost-four-year-old to lose it. After all, we’d already been to three stores. But she patiently watched me try on top after top after top.

Four long, exhausting hours later, we all walked to the car with a sense of accomplishment. Sky and I were ready for a nap. But Lily looked up at us, smiled, and begged us to let her change into her new dress.

And then she asked, “What are we going to buy next?”

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