31 for 31

Happy Monday!

I turned 31 on Friday. Please don't sing "Happy Birthday." The only reason I don't post my birthday on Facebook is because I avoid that song like the plague. I hate it. HATE IT. Have you ever noticed the more people involved in singing it, the more out of tune everyone is? What is that about?

Anyway, as much as I would have loved to do a second year of good deeds to match my age, I was working (saving days off for my honeymoon) and really did not have the budget. However, I did come up with an idea to celebrate my 31 years of age and, um, wisdom.

So, here you go. Thirty-one of my personal tips and tricks I've collected throughout the years.

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.

It's her party, and I'll cry if I want to

Even this party planning committee would be in
hell trying to find a space for a 3-year-old's party.

I am currently in the throes of planning L.'s third birthday party. It's kind of awful. When the fiance set out to finish the basement, I was told there was a good chance it would be done by the end of February, early March at the latest. Well, there was a snag when the guy who was supposed to hook up the heat had to get surgery on his hand and we now have no idea when it will be done.

Our upstairs is way too small for 15 adults and 5 children. Heck, when we have a simple playdate, it seems crowded!

We recently went to a birthday party for one of Layla's friends and the condo had a nice open floorplan, perfect for kettling little ones, while keeping the parents on the sidelines to act as ropes in a wrestling ring and bounce them back in.

So, last night, about four hours were spent on Google looking for a space to hold L.'s "The Lorax" themed birthday. Holy. Moly. First off, let's put some things into perspective:

Why I like Myers-Briggs

Last year, as part of my obsession with immersion into all things The Art of Simple (formerly Simple Mom), I listened to Tsh's podcasts on my commute to and from work. One of the topics she talked about was Myers-Briggs personalities.

I took a little psychology in high school, but I had never heard of Myers-Briggs. I decided to take a test to find out what my type was. I assumed the personalities wouldn't be that much different and it was possible this was another pop-psychology personality test. Like those quizzes in magazines in which I would usually find myself answering with all Bs and the answer key would tell me I am smack-dab in the middle of everything. Yawn. Oh, but I was wrong. And learning about Myers-Briggs and my personality type has actually helped me dramatically in finding out more about how I function, as well as how I thrive in certain environments and feel uncomfortable in others.

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!

Never would I ever ...

Don't let the smile fool you, there is FEAR in those eyes.

"When I'm a parent ... "

Let me stop you right there, oh childless ones who say these words. You think you're so wise. Well, I hate to speak in terms of absolutes, but you're not. Despite how many kids you've babysat for or how many younger siblings you've taken care of, you have no idea how your mind somehow changes and, dare I say it, warps  when you have a child of your very own. A child you're responsible for shaping and turning into a decent human being. Not to mention, you have to keep this child alive! And, though a lofty goal, at the very least, you picture these happy, heartfelt moments with your children 24/7.

I won't spoil the surprise for when you find out in the first 48 hours at home with your new child that these heartfelt moments are hard to come by when you're not even sure what you're supposed to do with this little one and you're sleep deprived and you're questioning every single thing you're doing and wondering if you're doing them all wrong.

And, as soon as you find the answer you're looking for and something "works," the next day, you'll be searching for a new answer to a new question and/or the answer you just found that worked will no longer work.

A toddler and her stomach bug

Banjo recovers quickly from losing her magic
on her first day.

As I previously mentioned, L. got her Elf on the Shelf and promptly began hugging, kissing and dancing with her. While the fiance and I were away, we sent Banjo to the North Pole to get her magic back. Santa sent us a photo of her progress and she came back, fully recovered. Now, that was an easy-peasy thing to remedy.

When it comes to your own children, however, not only do you learn there is nothing you won't do for your child, but you also take on this inner strength you might not regularly know you have. It's not the inner strength that shows itself when they're having a meltdown in the grocery store. It's not the inner strength that could come in handy when prompted to "all fall down" at the end of "Ring Around the Rosey" for the 40th time and you're not sure you will have the energy to stand up again. It's the inner strength that comes when you've reached what you perceive to be your limit and just keep going. Similar to the phrase mouthed by mothers to children, "Because I said so," when faced with a challenge, mothers subsequently tell ourselves, "Because I have to."

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.

Failure to Laugh

So, if you've seen my blog in the past week and a half, you've noticed I haven't posted anything. Unfortunately, when it came down to it, I picked the wrong year to try to participate in the 31 Days challenge. All week, I've had Kirsten Dunst's voice running through my head from "Elizabethtown" -- coincidentally another Cameron Crowe movie, the writer/director of "Almost Famous" from where the photo used in my 31 Days button comes from.

"You failed! You failed, you failed, you failed, you failed, you failed, you failed ..."

Day 16: Top 5 Underrated Movies

Today, I laughed at: the fiance referencing "The Big Lebowski" while rug shopping at Ikea today.
L. was looking at rugs with us when she decided to climb on one. The fiance looked at the rug and said, "That rug really ties the room together."

"The Big Lebowski" is probably the fiance's favorite movie and, I have to agree, while I didn't laugh out loud when I saw it, I do appreciate its humor and I will still say it's a funny movie.
Most movies I consider funny aren't actually "laugh out loud movies," now that I think about them. But few of them had me holding my stomach the first time I saw them.
And that brings me to the topic of the post I originally wrote yesterday but, ugh, got deleted. (I won't even link to yesterday's sad excuse for a post).

Day 11: This, too, shall pass and become funny

Today, I laughed at: an imitation my coworker did of me.
At work, we've been waiting for the new restaurant down the block to open up, since we've gotten tired of the same take out all the time. When we tried the food, unfortunately, none of the orders were right. I would have quietly eaten my veggie wrap, which was completely different from what the menu promised, but once other coworkers started hovering around, wondering what the new food was like, I snapped. The combination of others' curiosity and watching me eat, along with a cold side salad in a wrap instead of a grilled mushroom, pepper and cheese veggie wrap I was promised was too much and I flipped out, grabbed a coworker and brought my food back.
Later that night, we were recounting the story and another coworker did an impression of my face and said in a high voice, "This veggie wrap is just wrong! Please, oh pretty please, fix it!"

Day 10: Diagramming a joke, Part 2

Today, I laughed as: I said "yes" when the boyfriend proposed!
I also cried. I was also so happy, I didn't know what to do, so I laughed, and cried and, of course, said yes.
I was in the kitchen packing some things for our move when I heard L. come running in, leave something on the counter and run away. I heard the boyfriend say, "I think you should see what she brought you."
From this, I assumed it was cat poop or something gross. But when I looked down, it was a black velvet box. I opened it and saw the ring and turned around and saw the boyfriend on his knee. And I was so full of emotions, I laughed while crying.

Day 9: Diagramming a joke, Part 1

Today, I laughed at: the boyfriend imitating a horse while he played with L.
At Target (where I'll go for three things and come out with three bags, somehow), L. was fascinated with a dinosaur from the dollar section. Hey, as long as it was only a dollar and it wasn't princess/Disney related, I was fine buying it for her. When she brought it home, she introduced him to her toy horse and the Yo Gabba Gabba gang figures she has.
When the boyfriend woke up, she handed him the horse and began having a babble-speak conversation with the dinosaur. The boyfriend joined with the horse and "neighed" his portion of the conversation. "He-e-e-ey, ho-o-o-ow a-a-a-a-a-are yo-o-o-o-o-ou?"

 L. got a kick out of it and so did I. Have I mentioned how much I love the boyfriend? Well, it's a lo-o-o-o-ot.

Day 6: The more, the funnier

Today, I laughed at: the reaction I got when asking my co-worker to get me a Happy Meal at McDonald's.
No, seriously, I did this. I got one a week ago because of extremely poor planning on my part and I was running late with L. and realized we needed a quick lunch on the go. So I swallowed my pride and went to McDonald's. Inside the Happy Meal were figurines of characters from "The Wizard of OZ." Before I knew it, L. was in love with the Dorothy doll she got, which I ended up giving to my ex-sister-in-law when dropping L. off. So I've kind of indulged and have been getting Happy Meals here and there just for the toys for L. Look, we've already gone through how "Glee" is my McDonald's. Well, McDonald's is my McDonald's, as well. Oh, the stuff we do (and eat) for our kids.

Day 3: Being extra observant

Today, I laughed at: L.'s cupcake face
We went out to dinner to celebrate the boyfriend's father's birthday tonight. Before leaving, I was terrified. Absolutely scared to death about bringing a toddler into a public restaurant. But, she went right into the high chair and played with her toys on the table, especially since the boyfriend's mother brought ones she had never seen before. It turned into a wonderful dinner and the whole family ended up taking so many pictures of L. and her cupcake face.

31 Days: "Does anybody remember laughter?"

When was the last time I laughed?

I asked myself this question yesterday midway through my shift at work. And I couldn't answer that question. It could have been that morning over something silly my boyfriend did. Or it could have been the day before with some coworkers. But I honestly couldn't remember having a "fit of laughter" in some time. At least not one memorable enough to look back on and laugh about later.

Actually, that's not true. I did get reminded of the "Saturday Night Live"  with Will Ferrell and Norm McDonald in a "Celebrity Jeopardy" skit in which McDonald plays Burt Reynolds and changes his name to Turd Ferguson. Something about that skit made me laugh uncontrollably at my desk last week and I couldn't stop. THAT'S the last time I memorably laughed.

(Until a few minutes ago when I decided to find the clip of that to post and ended up laughing so hard, I began coughing, a leftover side effect from my recent cold.)

It's good to know I have at least one trigger to incite my laughing. And, after watching that clip, I took stock of how I felt after. My shoulders let go of some of the tension; my mouth perked up on the sides, as if expecting to laugh again; my mind seemed less focused on "I must, I must, I must get this blog post written" and more on "What else is going to make me laugh this month?"

Here's where the challenge comes in.

Surviving a cold with a toddler

It was inevitable. I was getting sleepy at work, the tickle in my throat was getting more annoying and what I thought were allergies were getting stronger. None of this clicked until the head congestion set in halfway through my last day of work for the week and I realized I was getting sick.

Ugh, one of the worst annoyances to a mom. The common cold. On top of being annoying to deal with, deal with a cold has to be one of the biggest triggers of Mom Guilt. And I have to keep reminding myself to take time for me. But, tell that to any mom and she'll nod graciously, but secretly think, "Yeah, OK, like that every happens."

So, I prepared. I got my liquids, my Tylenol Cold and Sinus and my tissues set up in the living room and L. got to watch as much TV as she wanted while I sat like a zombie, pretty much doing the bare minimum of making sure she didn't hurt herself or get into trouble. 

Why I like my smartphone

When I gave birth to L., I had a pre-smartphone. Not like the ones out there today. It made calls, sent texts and photos, but to get on the internet, I had to literally go to the browser and type in my destination, like Facebook or my email. From there, I would have to login or, sometimes if the phone was feeling particularly generous, it would remember me, though it rarely did.

I was comfortable with the phone and the basic touch screen. The keyboard slid out and had actual buttons, which I loved. I uploaded photos of L. to Facebook if I had time but, mostly, used the digital camera to take the majority of photos of her for social media.

Then I got an iPhone. And, I am not exaggerating when I say my life was changed. And even today, there is a feeling of nakedness when I go anywhere without my phone.

First day of hockey season and, since L. couldn't be
there with us, I used my phone to make sure
her New York Rangers pajamas were seen.

Tantrum Level Midnight

I read in "The Happiest Toddler on the Block" that the peak for tantrums is actually 18 months. By the time I had finally gotten around to reading the book, L. was about 22 months. I heaved a sigh of relief and tore through the book as quickly as I could. After learning how to spot a tantrum before it begins (warning signs are the key, by the way), either her tantrums have gone down on their own because she could communicate more or I'm just that good.

(Note: Pat yourselves on the back every so often. It feels good. And you deserve it.)