This is a tough season, but I'm a tough mother.

Selfish shopping basket - roses, cookies, and food for ME!

Being a mom of two little ones, while trying to work efficiently from home, is harder than I thought it would be. I mean, I knew it would have challenges, but I think I'm right in the heart of the stress - complete with a 3 year old with lots of energy and demands, and a 1 year old that is a mama's boy, though and through. I cannot be in the same room without holding him, he just thinks that is a total disgrace. Add these demands together with a job that needs my full, analytical attention? Yeah.

The other day, I reached max capacity.

Red alert.

Where's my white flag? I was waving one in my mind. Frantically.

Simon and I were sick with head colds, and he randomly started throwing up - no fever or anything, but it seemed like it was from his congestion. I was trying to keep up with Porter's demands, catching puke in a towel, replying to IMs from work, and was barely able to comprehend my life through the fogginess of bad sinus pressure. I just needed to sleep. I wanted it to be silent.

I was able to escape. My mother in law came home, saw me in a literal puddle on the floor, and told me to leave - go see Paul, who has been pretty much living at the church due to Scrooge The Musical being in full swing, or do something I wanted to do. It was up to me. I could have chosen the good wife route, and went to the church to be near Paul, even if that meant playing Cooking Dash on my phone in the dark while he obsessed over the soundboard during rehearsal. I could have done that. I could have brought him dinner or a coffee. Not saying he doesn't deserve those things, but I think in that moment, I realized that I really needed to have some me time.

I don't remember the last time I was alone. I can't count the fleeting moments when both boys are napping at the same time, because let's be honest, the universe never allows that to happen for more than 5-10 minutes at a time, every few weeks.

I decided I wanted to go sit at a coffee shop and work. Like I was a student with no other responsibilities except for good grades and a maintained caffeine buzz. Maybe people would think I was some naive nineteen year old with a whole lot of psychology homework to work through on a Monday night. (Ha. Yeah, right - the bags and swollen eyes alone don't let anyone believe for a second that I am a day younger than 30).

I wanted to drink a hot coffee that I didn't make (and then subsequently, forget) on my Nespresso - preferably something with pretentious art. I wanted to eavesdrop on people having casual convos or engaging in frivolous gossip - seriously, does anyone remember what those convos are like? I wanted to eat a pastry without feeling guilty because my kid has seen me way too much sugary crap and WHO IS GOING TO GET HIM TO EAT BROCCOLI IF I DON'T DO IT.

I did all those things, and it was marvelous. I had a raging headache from my cryfest earlier in the day, but I felt... calm. At peace. I had listened to Christmas music all the way there, and I didn't think about anything. Not anyone's health. Not how little I'd seen of my husband. Not when our new house will be done. Not the piles of laundry waiting for me when I returned. I thought of nothing, and it was so wonderfully refreshing.

I drank a homemade marshmallow (like, handmade marshmallows, people) latte and I focused on things like graphs and unique pageviews and average session durations like they were my biggest concern. I finished two large reports that I'd been piecing together for the last 8 hours between puke sessions and naps, and I was able to also "live update" a horribly awkward first date at the table next to me. It was magic.

When I left, it was still raining, but I can't believe how much lighter I felt. I was ready for the night - as sleepless as it could be. I was ready to make it home to brainstorm a way to fix the broken train track Porter was playing with, to hold Simon until he passed out in my arms, to sit and chat with and watch a show with my exhausted hubby (who barely beat me home to our babies, by the way).

This is a tough season, but I'm a tough mother. I know I was made for this, but I have been running on fumes too often to remain healthy - for myself, or my family.

I'm a huge proponent of "start your day with Jesus", and that is something I need to take care to do as well, each day - but what I was battling was even more than just that. I needed to start or end my day with me. I needed to be alone, to remember who I was and what made me tick.

I know God challenges me, in my spirit, to be the change I want to see - but if I want my family happy, healthy and fulfilled - I cannot expect to take them where I am not, myself.

A Day In The Life

Renee Biscarret Photography

Emails. Phone calls; quickly place my Skype on mute while Porter screams about "sharpie scissors" (although I have no idea what it means and decide quickly to ignore him, because it doesn't sound like the best idea he's had).

Get apple juice.

Grab Simon from climbing up onto the fireplace.

Refill apple juice.

Find Simon's missing sock.

Distract Porter from sharpie scissors with a piece of candy. Before breakfast. It's fine.

Remember my muted phone call and rush back to catch up on what they are saying. Pretend like I haven't gone missing, moonlighting as a waitress/maid for two very demanding clients when I should have been comparing the amount of October's unique pageviews to the average organic session duration for a very high-profile client.

Tell Porter I'm fresh out of "sharpie scissors". Again.

Turn off the water I forgot I left running in the sink.

Grab Simon from shoving his fingers into the fan in his room (which I forgot to turn off when he woke up), on my way to let Lennon outside.

Say "hold on" to my babies one too many times. Fight guilt one too many times.

That, my friends, is a peek into my typical afternoon.

Sometimes it feels like life is spinning in a mad, giant circle, and I'm only doing my best to keep steady. Porter's changed his mind about breakfast for the tenth time in as many minutes, Simon is tugging on the bottom of my shirt, so proud to be standing. My computer is making noises, I'm tripping over Leggos, and losing. my. mind.

I think about it later, as I'm composing a blog post (like now), and the day is quieting down. I'm mentally exhausted. I want Paul to swoop in, home from work and ready to valiantly play the role of mom and dad for the several hours before bedtime (which, in itself, is quite the event). I want to retreat while this happens, to not say a word, to stare at my phone and just unplug and pretend I don't have any responsibilities.

...except that I don't. I don't want that, at all. These people are my life, and my life is hectic and loud and super messy, but it's incredibly fulfilling. I don't want to unplug, I don't want Paul to pull double duty. I think I do, but I only do until it happens, and I miss them all. I miss the craziness, and tripping over Leggos. I miss Porter's bartering and Simon's snuggles.

One time, Porter was bargaining with me about something (probably candy, stupid Halloween leftovers) and as his enticing offer to trick me into saying yes, he said "maybe you can lay down and sleep?" so he could do what he was fighting with me about. My blood turned cold.

Porter knows I want sleep. He knows it's what I yearn for. Can he read it on my face? I've never told him sleep would make me happy. Is he just that smart, and guessing? Does he feel my disconnect? Do I look... worn out?

Sobering reminders that little eyes are watching. Every move I make, every short fuse that fires, every time I reprimanded when I should have had grace... they're watching. And while I assess myself with judgement, they probably think I'm pretty darn amazing. A little whacked out, sure. But overall amazing. When the day winds down and they want my cuddles, it reminds me that they do see all I do. But not with the judging eyes I assume they do - but with all the love in the world.

When there are two huge couches in our living room to sit on, and Porter wedges himself between me and the arm I'm leaning up against, I realize he can't be too mad about how many times I took candy away from him before noon. When Simon sees me from across the room, and nothing, come hell or high water, is going to stop him from crawling right up to my feet and pulling himself into my lap, I know he can't possibly remember when I rolled my eyes that he was ready to nurse again.

We are are own biggest critics, and I'm vowing to take better care of myself throughout the day, so in return, I can take even better care of them.

Inspiration from Dr. Seuss

I got today's little morning reminder from last night's storytime with the boys. As I read this book out loud, I found myself so encouraged - I had to pause and laugh a little at the simplicity and blatant challenge of this message. 

You have a brain in your head. Use it however you see fit.
You have feet in your shoes. Now, go.

What I appreciate about his books: the way he lays it out there - no frills, no fuss. It brought me, even just for a moment, back to the basics of what truly drives me. Let's remind ourselves of what we have in our hands, what we're capable of, and then let's go to work. It's more than just dreaming about possibilities... we have to actually get moving.

Yesterday, I was frustrated at work with the fact my clients don't seem to read my reports. I put a lot (a LOT) of hours into them. It's what I do all day. Oftentimes, I'm sure the clients only skim them for graphs that tilt in the right direction. They don't get deep into the analysis like I do, and it disappoints me. It took a short phone call with my superior (sorta the Dr. Seuss of my workplace, if you will) - to identify the problem and find the solution: I need to get on the phone with as many clients as I can and go over the reports with them. Get their feedback. Learn what they want. Adjust their next report to make them happier. I can't complain about what I allow, so I'm not allowing reports to just slip under the radar anymore.

What are some things in your life that you can innovate, improve, or take on? If it makes you miserable, or is a source of frustration, it means there's room for improvement and it has your name all over it. You have brains in your head and feet in your shoes: make it happen.
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Back To Center

Last night was a small but much-needed mommy night out. I forget how well I do with just a few hours to recharge. I met a friend, Colleen, and we got pretty fall manicures, and then went around the corner to a local bar for some food and drinks... Because when don't I need to bring food and drinks into the mix?

So many jewel tones, not enough time. I went with #92 - Down To Earth.
It's a beautiful camo-green!

It's a lot, working from home and raising two babies. I find it hard to separate the two sometimes. Too often, I treat my babies like tasks, or only give them my very divided attention - and it leaves me feeling completely sad, and like I've failed as a mom and employee. Is this what working from home is supposed to accomplish?

Simon Pierce - 8 months old & Porter Alan - 2.5 years old

No. Working from home gives me the chance to be there for moments like this... When they're crawling around together and laughing and exploring and just being brothers. Moments like this make the "sharpie on the carpet/nap strikes/food strikes/must have apple juice NOW" moments far less important.

But, the crazy moments also remind me quickly that I'm human... I'm an adult human. I'm not the kid that runs away from her problems anymore, I have to face them head on. When I'm feeling deflated and tired and just worn down, I have to deal with that like an adult. And since I've made the decision to not deal with my problems by acting out (partying, drinking, drugs, anger), I have to discover new ways to face and conquer the challenges in my life, in the moment. Because let's be honest: mommy nights out can't happen every night. Ha.

• Perspective. That's my biggest tool. Remembering those fleeting moments when Simon was two months old and we thought he was blind, or worse, that his body was filled with disease. Those were big issues. The fact that he wants me to hold him all day? Not an issue. An inconvenience, I guess, but not an issue. I see so many posts these days about accidents, and disease, and families truly facing the worst possible heartache... so my perspective shifts. I remember how blessed we are, and that I need to not act like my life is falling apart because Porter wants to drum his heart out while I'm on a phone call for work. God forbid, we could face some true challenges someday - but we're not. And I am so grateful and appreciative of the His hand on our lives.

• Prayer. I don't really have much to say about this, except for that I'm constantly trying to give it to God. I'm waiting for Him to throw up His hands like "Girl, no", but it hasn't happened yet. Hallelujah. My God is great.

• Mommy time-outs. Those are moments that I just lock myself in the laundry room for a minute to regain my composure so I don't say or do something I shouldn't. This works sometimes, too.

• IPads. Those have been my saving grace these days, when I'm not riddled with guilt for shoving an electronic in my son's hands and allowing him to zone out on Kid's YouTube. But when I have to get something done, necessity trumps all else, and he gets to watch creepy tutorials of grown adults opening eggs and talking in Disney voices.

• Reality Checks. For example: my husband is not the enemy because he has a job outside the home. I could go back to work outside the home, too, so I have to remind myself not to be a brat because I've made the decision not to. I'm guilty of making him feel like less of a parent because he "doesn't have to hear it all day long" as Porter rages about not being able to eat chili for breakfast. It doesn't make it any less annoying for Paul when he's home in the mornings, does it?

What are ways that you bring yourself back to center,
so you have the focus and energy to conquer your day?

The Chocolate Cake Confession

Confession: it's been a bad day with Porter. He's discovered that he can scream at the top of his lungs; like, the kind of scream that will make you lose your voice. So, today, he's been sobbing and screaming and snotty and basically I am convinced he hates me. It sounds like he's being tortured or something. And for no reason... picking him up doesn't help. Blowing raspberries on his little feet doesn't help. Offering him a snack doesn't help. Nothing. Helps.

So, I finally got him to sleep this afternoon, and ate a piece of chocolate cake for lunch. Yep. Chocolate cake for lunch. With thick, fudgey frosting and a layer of frosting in the middle of the cake.

There was nothing organic OR whole about it. Nothing. Except for that the whole piece went into my mouth.

I'm not sorry. Not even a little bit.

Thanks for reading. How is your Monday going?

Confessions of a Work-At-Home Mom

Sometimes I feel like working from home is the hardest thing in the world.

I'll pause here, so all the working moms can angrily exit my blog and remove me from their Google Reader.

Oh good, you're still here? Let me explain.

When my husband gets home, and I'm still wearing yoga pants and have not yet gotten into the shower, I feel so lazy. Granted, he never makes me feel this way, and it's absolutely something I put upon myself... but still. If I feel it about myself, it must be accurate, right?

I mean, I haven't even thought about dinner, the house is a disaster, and I look like I just woke up. I wonder if I'm ever going to be the supermom that manages to make it all happen and still look like I just stepped out of everyone's Pinterest board.

I mean... I work from home. Shouldn't I have ample time to cook and clean and decorate and run errands and meet my friends for coffee? But the truth is, there are times that I'm torn between being a great employee, and being a great mom. If I keep responding to this email and ignoring my child's incessant jabbering, is he going to remember that I'm more interested in what is on the computer than I am in what he's chattering about?

I have to pause here and take a few deep breaths. 

What did I accomplish today?

Daily Adventures with Porter

I love that I get to spend the entire day with Porter. I'm so blessed to be a work-from-home mom.

However, I don't love that he likes to rip my stung lights off the wall before I can catch him, chew on my sandals (ew),  assume Lennon's dog food are the same as his sweet potato puffs, or clamp down his razor sharp new teeth on my newly-shellac'd nails, laughing as a I try to pry it out of his mouth without ruining my manicure.

On the bright side, I've gotten so much better at cleaning up as I go throughout the day - mainly because I really don't want my baby getting electrocuted, or eating whatever is stuck to the bottom of my shoe.

So... winning, really.