Welcome to another Mommy Moment! If you’re not sure what it is, head over and read all about how Mommy Moments at the Monster came to be. Today, I am excited to welcome Jenny from Karma (continued…)!

Jenny is a mom of two, a little boy and a little girl, a writer, and of course a blogger. She is also the editorial director at Moonfrye.com (yep – the Soleil Moon Frye you remember as a kid). She is a very good friend of mine – I just wish we could see each other more often since live pretty close!

So go grab a cup of coffee and a donut, ahem, I mean a low-fat muffin, or depending on the time of the day maybe some wine and chocolate, and sit back and enjoy the story!

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I’m SO honored to be here today…Natalie was an inspiration and wonderful, patient source of advice when I was just starting out. I’d never have imagined I would here be writing my own Mommy Moment one day (instead of just stalking her site as usual…) Thank you, Natalie!

There were just so many things.

There was the groceries, and the laundry, the unpaid bills. Phone calls to return, laundry to fold, emails to respond to, meetings to schedule, writing deadlines to meet. My mother-in-law was losing her battle with cancer, my husband was breaking into a million pieces right before my eyes. I was spinning in space, trying to make sense of it all, trying to make it all somehow be OK.

There were just so many reasons.

I packed so carefully. Ballet shoes and tap shoes and leotard and tights. After-class snack, bottle of water, hair elastic to make that perfect ballerina bun in her glossy, chocolate hair. Toys and books and fruit cut into tiny pieces for the little one, hoping to keep him entertained during the long hour his sister would be dancing her heart out.

Bag in the car. Baby in his carseat, buckled in tight, battered giraffe lovey tucked between his pudgy fingers. Mirrors adjusted. Parking brake off. I double checked that the ballet bag was on the front seat. I answered a text, set a reminder to bring fruit juice to preschool the next morning. I buckled my seat belt. Turned the ignition. Put the car in reverse.

And that’s when I saw her.

My beautiful, confused, horrified-looking little girl. Waving frantically. Watching me prepare to pull out of the driveway, turn down our street, and drive two miles to ballet class.

Without her in the car.

There was just…too much.

I downplayed it, of course. Made silly faces. Said “Good girl! You stayed in a safe place and waved to Mommy so she could see you. Silly Mommy almost forgot to put you in the car! Your ballet shoes would have had to go to class all by themselves.”

Finally, I had her laughing. At the idea that her ballet shoes could do her routine to “Welcome to the ‘60s” without her little feet in them. At the idea that her Mommy could ever forget her for longer than two seconds. Because I couldn’t, of course. I would have remembered. Mommy always remembers. Silly Mommy.

Would I have remembered?

She danced into ballet class with stars in her eyes, all smiles, all love and trust and forgiveness. I sat down on the floor in the lobby with my baby in my arms and sobbed.

There are so many things…and still, there’s no excuse. No reason ever good enough to have such complete and total mommy-brain blackout that a three-year-old in a tutu could be left standing on the front lawn while her scattered, distracted, over-extended mother almost drove away without her.

I know every  moment of motherhood won’t be perfect. There will be so many moments when I fail, so many times when even my very best efforts won’t come close to being good enough. But this moment? Opened my eyes to a truth that had been right there in front of me all along. Except I’d been too busy doing things to ignore it.

There are so many things.

Some of them will have to go.

These days, there are more emails than I’d care to admit languishing in my overstuffed inbox. The dry cleaning should have been picked up weeks ago. I’ve forgotten about invites to birthday parties, skipped out on bridal showers, let the junk mail pile up in a messy heap on my living room floor. I’m learning to focus on what’s really important…and letting the rest of it go.

But because of all that? I’m a better mom. A better wife. And hopefully, a saner, less overwhelmed person who laughs more and scowls less.

And who will never leave her kid standing alone on the front lawn in a pink tutu ever, ever again.

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Oh Jenny, I didn’t read your Mommy Moment until I put it in to the body of this post, and at the same time I was preparing to publish this, I’m Skyping with a friend telling her that there’s just too much going on right now and some of it has to go. I SO GET THIS!

We all take on so much as moms – it’s a tough gig and so easily overwhelming. There’s no manual out there for what we do, so sharing stories like this helps us all learn from each other.

Now head over to Karma (continued…) and say hello to Jenny. If you are a Twitter addict, you can find her there, and on Facebook, and Pinterest, too! And if you are a new follower, make sure to tell her that I sent you!

Welcome to another Mommy Moment! If you’re not sure what it is, head over and read all about how Mommy Moments at the Monster came to be. Today, I am excited to welcome Katie from Clomid & Cabernet!

Katie is a mom of two, a little boy and a little girl, and you can read all about her parenting adventures at Practical Parenting. She’s also a wife, a friend, and she teaches parenting classes. She’s busy! Clomid & Cabernet is her newly launched site that helps women deal with infertility struggles. It’s a pretty amazing site, and one I wished had been around when I was dealing with infertility.

So go grab a cup of coffee and a donut, ahem, I mean a low-fat muffin, or depending on the time of the day maybe some wine and chocolate, and sit back and enjoy the story!

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From the minute they came into this world, I’ve been on a mission to enjoy as many small moments as possible.

The cooing, the smiles, the laughter, the hugs, the big wet kisses…the list goes on.

Some days I document like crazy, silently reprimanding myself when I fail to capture the perfect hug, the perfect jump, or the perfect moment of quiet play.

Most days I leave the electronics behind, immersing myself in the play and art so that I don’t miss a beat. These days I take screen shots in my mind, because I don’t want my only memories to include me behind the camera.

I want to actually be in the memories, not on the outside looking in.

Always, I watch them sleep.

Maybe it was the infertility. Maybe it’s just in my DNA. Whatever it is, I struggle to let go.

By day I watch them grow in leaps in bounds. I cheer for every milestone, and encourage each new adventure, even if I cry a little bit on the inside.

I feel the baby days slipping away right before my very eyes. I am powerless to make it stop.

I listen carefully as my five year old creates complex and fascinating stories just because she can.

I watch in awe as my three year old learns to write his name, put on his own clothes, and create his own buildings. Help is no longer required.

I know, in my heart, that I am still needed. I am, without a doubt, the first person they want to see in the morning and the last person they want to see as they finally rest their eyes.

I will always be needed.

But I see the shift happening. I see the baby-ness starting to fade and the big kid-ish-ness taking over. I see complicated art projects, beautiful handwriting, and athletic skills beginning to emerge. I see individuals emerging and strong opinions being voiced.

It both fills and breaks my heart at the exact same time.

And so, I watch them sleep.

There, wrapped and snuggled and sighing in their sleep, they seem smaller somehow. Despite their length, they remain little, cozy, and hang on to just a little bit of that baby-ness.

There, I can breathe them in, stroke their beautiful hair, and shed just a few tears as I work my way out of the baby days and into the world of big kids.

Just as soon as I’m ready…

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I should have mentioned you would need tissues! Beautiful, isn’t it? And I agree that in their sleep they do seem smaller, and it is then that I greedily kiss them and hug them without them trying to push away.

There’s no manual out there for what we do, so sharing stories like this helps us all learn from each other.

Now head over to Clomid & Cabernet and say hello to Katie. If you are a Twitter addict, you can find her there, and on Facebook, and Pinterest, too! And if you are a new follower, make sure to tell her that I sent you!

Welcome to another Mommy Moment! If you’re not sure what it is, head over and read all about how Mommy Moments at the Monster came to be. Today, I am excited to welcome one of my biggest blog crushes: Melissa from Momcomm!

Melissa is a mom of 2 little boys (you can read about her parenting adventures at Adventuroo), a wife, and a blogging/social media maven. Seriously, she is one of my bloggy idols and I’ve learned more from her than I could ever share! I couldn’t wait to have her share a Mommy Moment here!

Go grab a cup of coffee and a donut, ahem, I mean a low-fat muffin, or depending on the time of the day maybe some wine and chocolate, and sit back and enjoy the story!

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Two year olds. Oh two year olds.

The other day I found myself lamenting Little Roo’s age. We’re in a phase of:

“No, I do it.”

“Why, mom?” (yes, this is already starting)

“I want candy. Canddyyyyyyyy.” (damn you, candy-centered holidays).

And tantrums. Enough said.

While my five year old doesn’t need constant tending to, it feels like my two year old does. Fill up the sippy cup, change a diaper, chase him up the stairs so he doesn’t get his pacie (they stay in his crib since the pacie fairy is coming soon), monitor him coming down the stairs since he thinks walking ON the railing is amusing, catching food he throws at dinner, convincing him that vegetables are yum and on and on and on.

It’s so flat-out exhausting.

Part of me thinks things like “I can’t wait until he’s a little bit older so he can…” Or “two is the worst age EVAH.” I picture days when he can get out of the car by himself, not need diapers and all that “older kid stuff.”

But then, THEN…

I listen as he soaks up new words, making just about everything I say into a question back at me. I tell him “we’re going to Target” and he sweetly responds, “Going to Target, Mom?”

I smile as his little voice pronounces noodle more like noo-ol.

I watch as he experiences the pure, wide-eyed elation of his first little train ride at our nearby park.

I feel his drowsy little head rest on my shoulder when I pull him from the crib after his afternoon nap.

And I laugh. Laugh at the things he says, the things he does and the fact that he’ll mock any silly thing we ask him say no questions asked.

I mean how funny is it for a two year old to go around going “Dun na na na na na na na Batman!” Or that when he grabs Daddy’s safety glasses we tell him to say “Stop. Hammertime!”

Now THAT is hysterical.

His little mind is so malleable. He isn’t embarrassed yet that his mama is referencing 90s rap stars. Or 70s sitcoms. He’s not rolling his eyes at me. Yet.

Instead, he’s laughing, learning… and giving us quite the chuckle.

Maybe two isn’t so bad after all.

Melissa Culbertson is a mom, marketing communications consultant and blogger. She’s also the proud author of the DIY Blog Critique and creator of Content Brew, an online blogging course about content planning and endless idea creation. She runs two blogs: Momcomm, where she offers tips on blogging and social media, and Adventuroo, her personal blog about capturing the everyday.

You can find Melissa around the web on Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn and Pinterest.
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Seriously, it’s like we are living the same life! But with two year olds it’s double the exhaustion and exasperation fun! I love, LOVE watching my girls learn and explore the world around them – it’s amazing to once again see it all through the eyes of a child. It makes all the work worth it.

There’s no manual out there for what we do, so sharing stories like this helps us all learn from each other.

Now head over to Momcomm and say hello to Melissa. If you are a Twitter addict, you can find her there, and on Facebook, LinkedIn and Pinterest, too! And if you are a new follower, make sure to tell her that I sent you!

Welcome to another Mommy Moment! If you’re not sure what it is, head over and read all about how Mommy Moments at the Monster came to be. Today, I’m so excited to welcome Jennifer from Midwest “Mom”ments!

Jennifer is a mom of 2 little girls, a wife, and as you’ll hear shortly, a soon to be working mama. She has been a friend and so supportive of me for so long that I couldn’t wait to have her share a Mommy Moment here!

Go grab a cup of coffee and a donut, ahem, I mean a low-fat muffin, or depending on the time of the day maybe some wine and chocolate, and sit back and enjoy the story!

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I Know I Should Be Excited

So, when I got this email from Natalie asking if I would be interested in sharing a Mommy Moment, I thought to myself, “Surely she meant to send this to someone else? Not little ol’ me?” What an honor! I’m so excited to be here today in the same spot that has been home to so many of my bloggy idols. I hope you enjoy this post about how our kids can turn the tables on us.

I know I should be excited. It’s a great opportunity.

But I’m not.

I know I should be thankful.

I am.

But mostly?

I’m sad. The tears started falling on my walk to the parking lot after the final interview. I nailed it, and I knew it. I should have been proud. I was almost positive they were going to offer me the job.

And they did.

In a market where people have been out of work for years, I was able to find a new job within a couple of months. It was a huge relief to my husband who also was able to find a new position, but only as a contract worker through December.

But I had become spoiled. I got to realize my stay-at-home-mom dream, if only for a few weeks. And now I don’t want to give it up.

“You got to be with them for two-and-a-half months,” my husband said when I started crying about leaving the girls.

“I know,” I sniffled.

“And before that, you got to be with them half the time for the five months your hours were cut at your last job.”

“I know.”

“And you wanted to strangle them almost every day.”

“I know.”

Doesn’t mean I didn’t love every minute of it. And since I got the news, I’ve been trying to figure out how to break it to my babies. I envision dramatic drop-offs at daycare where they cling to me desperately, crying their little eyes out. I finally mentioned it to S as casually as possible while we were in the van running errands Saturday.

“Honey, remember that interview I went to?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I got the job,” I said, brightly. “So you and Sissy will be going back to daycare.” My chest tightened, preparing for her reaction. She didn’t say anything.

“I’ll miss seeing you all day which makes me feel a little sad,” I said, trying to create a safe place for her to share her emotions. “It’s ok if you feel sad, too.”

“Oh, it’ll be fine, Mom,” she said, in her wise four-year-old voice. “I’ll still see you at suppertime and bedtime.”

Ok, then.

Apparently it will just be me crying and clinging at drop-off. (Which is a good thing.)

Jennifer Barr is a wife and (soon-to-be) working mom of two beautiful girls who keep her on her toes! Most of those experiences are chronicled on her blog, Midwest “Mom”ments.

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Seriously, I got goosebumps reading this! Kids are so wise sometimes, and always when we really, really hope they’ll be. This made me cry, especially since I’ve been trying to decide about working full time or staying home and working part time. It seems like it would be great to get away from them and talk to adults all day long, but like Jennifer – even though we want to strangle them – it’s hard to walk away from the luxury and luck of being able to stay home.

There’s no manual out there for what we do, so sharing stories like this helps us all learn from each other. Now head over to Midwest “Mom”ments and say hello to Jennifer. If you are a Twitter addict, you can find @MidwestMomments there, and on facebook, too! And if you are a new follower, make sure to tell her that I sent you!

Welcome to another Mommy Moment! If you’re not sure what it is, head over and read all about how Mommy Moments at the Monster came to be. Today, I’m so excited to welcome Melissa from Confessions of a Dr. Mom!

Melissa is a mom of 2, a wife, a writer and blogger and a doctor. I can’t even keep the kids and house clean working part time – I have NO idea how she does it as a full-time doctor! She and I started blogging around the same time, and she’s been a good friend since. I’m glad to know her.

Go grab a cup of coffee and a donut, ahem, I mean a low-fat muffin, or depending on the time of the day maybe some wine and chocolate, and sit back and enjoy the story!

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Growing Pains of the Heart

He was so sad.

His two year old self, completely engulfed by the grief, the confusion…the sadness.

I, as a new mom of two, was just barely surviving.

Exhausted. Completely swallowed by it.

I did not see him.

All I could see was a newborn who needed me.

Breastfeeding, pumping, preparing bottles, diaper changes, and sleeping in 3 hour increments….why couldn’t my two year old, newly crowned Big Brother see that?

No, I cannot play trains. No, your request for a third snack in the last 15 minutes cannot be granted. And, no you may not throw that ball at baby sister’s head.

No.

I banish him to the other room. Unable to deal. Unable to muster up empathy or understanding.

Then I hear it. The sobs that have overtaken his little body. Screaming, crying…complete sadness.

I’m frozen in the next room. Holding my new baby girl.

My heart is breaking.

I gently lay baby girl in her pink bouncy seat. She’s fussing, but I must go I explain after a quick kiss on her head.

I re-enter Big Brother’s world. Tears are already pouring down my own face.

His body is shaking. I gently turn him towards me, get down on my knees, and look him directly in the eyes.

I’m so sorry. This is hard, isn’t it?

He nods, relieved, it seems, to know that I understand a little.

He’s having a hard time settling down. Sobs are still rattling through my baby boy’s body.

My baby boy.

The same baby boy whose body, just a short 4 weeks ago, I’d still cradle in my arms at bedtime and gently rock him to sleep.

Now, not only does rocking him before bedtime seem like a luxury, he’s so incredibly ginormous in comparison to his new baby sister.

His new baby sister who has now taken up residence in my arms.

My arms.

I start crying a little harder and hug him. I wrap these arms of mine around him. It’s all I can do.

Go ahead and let it out baby boy. And it’s like I’m giving permission to both of us. To grieve. To mourn the loss of our former selves. He’s no longer my baby.

And yet, he always will be.

But now I have two.

And it’s during this transition from one baby to two that our hearts grow and the love doubles.

It’s glorious.  A blessing.

But it hurts.

Growing pains of the heart.

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This one made me cry – because the same thing happened when Ethan realized that two little people just turned his world upside down and took me away from him. It’s a hard transition, and if it’s hard for us, how can we NOT expect it to be hard for children? And Melissa explained in an email to me that this moment hurt her heart, as it did mine and I’m sure many of yours.

There’s no manual out there for what we do, so sharing stories like this helps us all learn from each other. Now head over to Confessions of a Dr. Mom and say hello to Melissa. If you are a Twitter addict, you can find @Melissa_DrMom there, and on facebook, too! And if you are a new follower, make sure to tell her that I sent you!

Congratulations to @MommaKiss! You won a copy of Scary Mommy’s new book Confessions of A Scary Mommy!