Let It Go ...

Sorry there aren't more
photos in the post.
I was busy doing mom
things at Target.

No, I am not referring to the newest song terrorizing parents and Facebook feeds. I'm using that title to refer to the feeling a parent must get when they can't say exactly what's on their mind when others are observing either them or their children. But, for anyone who just wants a glimpse into the mind of a parent whose child is currently doing her thing and being 3, this is what we're really thinking. And how we wish to respond, but can't because we're trying to set an example.

To the woman who is "helping" me locate my child who is currently running through the store because she didn't want to sit in the cart.

Believe it or not, I recognize my daughter's footsteps. They haunt me. I hear them at ungodly hours on weekends, creeping slowly to my bed to wake me up. I hear them chasing the cat around the house. I can hear them running in an opposite direction or coming toward me. I know as soon as I unwrap any sort of food for myself, those footsteps will soon follow. I can hear them stop and know, after about two minutes of silence, to see what she's up to.

She's not a light stepper. And I'm OK with that.

Happy New Year!

From the Self-Evident Supermom household to yours, have a very happy new year!

It's as if she's mocking me,
saying, "Oh, you fool,
you think 2 is bad? Wait."

This year will bring a new job (surprise, surprise!), a new schedule for both me and L., the dreaded Terrible 3s (3 is the new 2, have you heard?), potty training (ugh, eventually), a wedding, L. starting school and, hopefully, more topics to write on and more productivity, all while trying to maintain simplicity.

Every year, I make 10 resolutions. I figure I have chance to keep at least one.

Before I set my goals for 2014, I'd like to just take a minute to list my accomplishments of 2013. Not for bragging purposes, but as inspiration that sometimes, despite what my inner critic thinks, I can do it!

Christmas Eve thoughts

Right now, I'm currently without my daughter on Christmas Eve. It's sad. I don't have cookies and milk out, although I know Santa will come. (The photo shown at the right was taken a few weeks ago.) 

Our Elf, Banjo, has already flown back to the North Pole until next year. L.'s presents are packed in a bag and about to be put into the car to be carted around tomorrow instead of under the tree.

This is the sucky side of Christmas for a child of divorce. SO much travel between all the houses of parents and grandparents and soon-to-be step-grandparents.

But, instead of the few paragraphs I wrote then deleted complaining about how much divorce is affecting our plans tomorrow and how inconvenient all the traveling will be for L., I'm just going to count my blessings instead of sheep tonight because even Santa Supermom has her nights of the "Bah! Humbugs!" But that doesn't stop tomorrow from coming, as the Grinch learned. And it won't stop Christmas from being magical for L., as well as all those who love her. And that's the most important part of Christmas.

Happy Holidays to all!

Holidays don't have to equal stress

Some tips I've accumulated over the years to cut down the holiday stress. Some are wholesome, some not so much ...

Beating SADD

The Lights at Virginia Beach, where the fiance and I
went for Thanksgiving.

I felt my seasonal grumpies start in October, of all things. There's been a lot of stress at work and at home while we slowly moved into our house. I lost about 40 minutes a day in the car because my commute is longer. I was pretty busy when November hit and I kind of took it one day at a time to try to make myself happy anyway I could (Read: Goodbye, diet. Hello comfort food.)

Once the end of November hit, while most people complained about how early people were pushing Christmas, I was happy to see decorations up. I had remembered my trick last year to staying positive.

The stuff I used to judge ...

Before I was a mom, well, let's just say I wish I could go back and slap myself in the face for judging any other parent ever in the history of the world. Except when I judged "Mommie Dearest." I think that was the only one that was OK to have an opinion on.

The truth is, parents are doing the best we can. As much as I thought to my "wiser" (read: wiseass) self, "Oh, when I'm a mom, I won't _____(fill in the blank)___ like that mom over there," I had no right to even have an opinion. Even if it was a positive one. Because you don't know until you are a parent.

Day 14: Retiring a joke

Today, I laughed at: nothing I can really describe.
I don't really know how to explain the laughter I had today (late, late last night/early morning). I got home from work and when the fiance met me at the door of the house we're moving into, he said, "Do we have to paint tonight? I'm sorry, I'm just not in the mood."

The fiance as we were brainstorming
the future location of the bar
in our basement.

I was so relieved because I felt the same way. I had been rushed all day and I really wanted to just sit.
I knew I had the energy if I needed it, but I did not really have the motivation to do a good job.

So, instead, we grabbed a few beers and went downstairs to the basement to look at how the walls were coming along. We're hoping to finish the basement so we'll have it as a big play room, initially for L., but I'm guessing the fiance will have more toys down there.
Anyway, as we planned out things for the future, I began to get that feeling in my stomach like when you're about to go over a rollercoaster hill. I started laughing and I couldn't even describe to the fiance what was so funny. 
It wasn't so much that it was funny, but I was so excited about spending my life with him in this home we're putting together, the only expression my body could release was laughter. And so I laughed. I smiled until my face hurt.

What it's like at the end of the tunnel

So many people told me there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The thing was,  I was so used to being in the tunnel, I was used to it. It wasn't until a few days ago when I found myself "accidentally" dieting and being conscious of getting more movement into my daily routine did I realize I was finally in that light at the end of the tunnel.

The boyfriend and I recently celebrated being together for a year. The exact date is really unknown since I began staying with him only a few days after L.'s father and I agreed a divorce would be best. It started out as a gesture of friendship. I was uncomfortable at "home" and he and I worked the same shift and we were fond of each other's company. I had my grieving period, and it was a rather weird transition into a relationship from there.

I kept a lot of emotions to myself. I was able to rationalize myself down off temporary emotional cliffs. But every so often, something would set me off. And that's when the boyfriend would hold me. He wouldn't tell me everything would be alright; instead, he told me "things aren't always going to seem as bad." It was exactly what I wanted to hear. I was exactly what I NEEDED to hear.

Attempting to be hipsters with our glasses, PBRs and Instagram.
All of which we, actually, somewhat enjoy. But not ironically.

We hold these truths ...

Here's my own Declaration of Independence.

• I will not strive to impress anyone with my mothering skills.
• I will not succumb to Mom Guilt.
• I will focus my energy on raising a compassionate and confident daughter.
• I will not attempt to fall into the categories of "mommy blogger," "helicopter mom," "bad mommy," "hypochondriac mom," "organic," "overprotective," "divorced and bitter," "tiger mom," "woe-is-me," "martyr mom" or "Mommy Dearest."
• I will not think of my daughter in terms of categories such as "Terrible 2s," "a tantrum just waiting to happen" or "too ____ for her own good." Or, even worse, "a typical ___ year old." Because she will prove me wrong. Every time.
• I will OWN my messy ponytail, applesauced jeans and shirt with the juice stain from holding a sippy cup in my mouth and having the lid pop off while changing a diaper!
• I will be as honest with my daughter as I can.
• I will read parenting advice, but not obsessively. I will listen to my instincts, but continue to look for guidance.
• I will only give parenting advice when asked. I will not volunteer advice to other moms just because something worked wonders for us. (Aside from this blog, which is a take-it-if-you-want, not-written-in-stone type.)
• At the end of a "bad" day, I will remember that tomorrow is a brand new day. My daughter is too young to hold a grudge. And, if I can help it, she will not hold onto hurt and let it eat at her, like Mommy took almost 30 years to find out.
• I will use my weaknesses to help make my daughter stronger.
• I will use my strengths to make her nearly invincible.
• I will not apologize for toys strewn about or dishes left in the sink or a cat or two covered with sticky fur from even stickier hands.
• I will be thankful for every minute with my daughter, even if that thankfulness comes in hindsight.
• I will not blame my ex-husband for anything in my life. In fact, without him, I wouldn't have the most precious daughter in the entire world. We will both try to the best of our ability to co-parent successfully. Our little girl deserves it. We owe it to ourselves.

Without proof or argument, I am, by my own definition, a SUPERMOM.