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    Ramblings of a Mother

    I Was Lost in the Laundry. Did Anyone Even Notice I was Gone?

    perfectlydestressed.com

    The other morning I was watching a daily news program during my morning 15 Minutes of Silence (if you Mama’s out there don’t practice this habit, trust me, you need this! Start your day, before the kiddos wake up and the chaos ensues, with at least 15 minutes of only you, your fav coffee mug and whatever you fancy – Candy Crush, The Today Show, Facebook, planner planning, bible journaling, staring off into space, dreaming of going back to bed in 15 hours. Whatevs. You choose.)

    And because wine is frowned upon in the mornings, this really is the next best thing. It is so good for the soul and for your AM ‘mom mood’.

    Anyway, the reporter was discussing the increase of women reentering the workforce. They ended the segment for a commercial break with a question: “Why were so many women taking on ‘side hustles’ or choosing to become entrepreneurs?” It’s true.

    I have noticed within my own inner circle of peeps that more and more of my beauteous women friends have either gone back to work, gone back to school, or have become distributors of skin care essentials, spatulas, herbal supplements, mascara etc. Here’s the thing – each one of my girlfriends appear truly proud of the business they represent.

    Like, ‘shout it from the rooftops and tell everyone about it’ proud. I felt like I was right back in Mrs.White’s class in the 3rd grade. Raising my hand, flailing it around in the air, jumping up and down hoping the reporter would see me so I could answer his question. I knew why they had chosen to go back to work. Why they had chosen to say “yes” to themselves; “Ooooh! Oooooh! Pick me! I know! I know! Pick meeeeee!” It was so obvious: They were lost in the laundry! Duh!

    Okay, so obviously these women are not lost in the laundry.

    At least not in the literal sense (I hope). Although, sometimes the piles around here are so high this might actually be possible. {Sooo, if you don’t hear from me for a while, you know where to look.} For some women the choice to go back to work stems strictly from a financial standpoint -and we all can agree that extra moolah for Target shopping is never a bad thing- I do believe there are also women who are simply feeling lost. And I was most definitely lost.

    You see, I have been a mom since I was 17.

    It’s one of the few things I have consistently done in my adult years. And I don’t say that out of spite. It has just been my life for almost 20 years. I love my mom job more than anything, and I wouldn’t change a single thing that has led me to where I am. But, once upon a time, I was just a girl named Kristin. A nerd introvert that loved watching movies, reading anything I could get my hands on, writing stories and jamming to Rod Stewart while imagining my wedding to the Dirty Dancing version of Patrick Swayze.

    And I had some plans. Some BIG life plans.

    There was a moment a year or so ago that I found myself on the floor of my bedroom sobbing. It was one of those really ugly cries, my friends. Most likely due to the fact that my oldest son was making his own big plans.

    Huge life changes were in his horizon. He spent his evenings after school and work applying for grants and scholarships. My baby was in the midst of deciding which college to enroll in and in turn, choosing a major he would earn a degree in that would eventually serve him and his future family for the rest of their lives.

    And while I was blowing (honking) my nose into my tissues all alone, it occurred to me that the last time I knew what I was good at, knew what I was truly passionate about -other than my family, of course- was when I was a teenager preparing for a future that would never materialize. I had lost myself in these past 20 years.

    I was so caught up in the laundry, the cleaning, the cooking, grocery shopping and taxi driving, the sports and the after-school clubs, the play dates and the PTO meetings that I wasn’t quite sure where I fit into all of this.

    Where did I go? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love volunteering in my kids’ schools. I love that my kids are involved in activities and sports. And I really freaking love being their mom. But, who the heck was I anymore? Was I really just a non-yoga practicing, yoga pant wearing, messy bun rocking, soccer mom? What did I like to do? Did I have a hobby? Could I even say I had interests? I honestly didn’t know anymore.

    I remember reading somewhere that journal writing helped to clear the mind and ease anxiety. So, I started there.

    Once I began writing, it was like a flood of feelings overwhelmed me.

    I remembered how much I adored taking a pen to paper. The journal writing then led me to start a ‘stupid blog that no one would want to read’. The stupid blog led me to start an Instagram page where I could share all of the crap I’ve made for my home. And guess what I realized? I was actually good at something that didn’t begin and end with an ‘m’ and have an ‘o’ in between! And most importantly, in the journaling, the stupid blog and the IG page, I found myself! It was like myself and I picked up right where we left off all those years ago.

    I mean, sure, we were both a bit older and a smidge wiser with possibly a few gray hairs.

    She was obviously a little worse for wear after being lost so long in that dang laundry, but all-in-all, we were pretty much both as equally amazing as we’d always been.

    I’m still a Mom and Wife first and foremost. A woman that loves my kids, my husband and my life to the moon and back. But, I’m also Kristin. Just a quirky, obsessively clean crafter with a creative soul. I love to make crap from junk and writing posts on my blog is my passion.

    And I really am so happy to meet you!

    Did you see my last post?

    Ramblings of a Mother

    I am Enough

    reflections of a girl perfectlydestressed.com

    You know that moment when you find yourself standing in line at the grocery store next to the ‘All-Together Woman’?

    Come on girls, you know the one.

    She very well may have just stepped out of a magazine centerfold while you are fairly certain you resemble something more along the lines of a real-life Fraggle Rock muppet. This woman is flawless. Her makeup is spot-on, her clothes are wrinkle-free. Her toes are manicured and her fingernails look like they never once, in the course of her what-must-be-a-dream-life, scrubbed a single dirty bathtub, poopy toilet or messy kitchen floor. She certainly never had her hands in soapy dish water so often during the day it was a miracle her skin didn’t fall off let alone demolish her perfectly pink nail polish. She is a walking perfection of the female species.

    Okay, seriously, I know you know what I am talking about now.

    But, here’s the thing. I don’t hate her. I don’t even envy her. Because I don’t know her. I have no idea what her personal struggles are. I applaud her for her obvious fashion skills and mad make-up abilities. I will probably even tell her I love her hair. Or her shoes. Or her something. And, for all I know, while I am admiring her trendy jacket and cropped top (and those darn perky boobs under them) she very well may be admiring my children and my life. Maybe, just maybe, she thinks my Danskin yoga pants paired with a hoodie and clean-ish Converse tennies along with my ridiculously huge diaper bag that seconds as my purse and kitchen fridge on-the-go are totally adorbs! {Okay, that’s probably stretching it a wee bit} But, the grass is always greener on the other side, right?!

    I will most likely scrounge up the courage to drag myself to a mirror sometime in the next hour or so just to see what exactly I looked like next to this magical being. Chances are I had green and blue fruit loops bits stuck somewhere between my teeth, a messy bun that closely resembled a bird’s nest and overly unplucked eyebrows. Chances are also extremely high there was not a lick of make-up to hide my exhausted, sleep deprived eyelids, either. My boobs will still be saggy and my tummy will still be loose.

    Listen, my seasons will change. All too soon my kids will be older and I will have more energy to prep myself before going out in public. I will be more rested and will probably (hopefully) have lost some pre/post baby weight. I won’t be rushed to pick up peanut butter and milk after school drop-off but before nap. Brushing my teeth in the morning will no longer seem like a luxury. Heck, I may even be the “All-Together Woman”. But, in this season, today, I am going to tell myself “I am enough.” Because I AM enough.

    My babies don’t see her and her gorgeous, immaculate femininity. They see ME, their Mommy and #1 Person. They love me unconditionally. And I am enough. My husband respects me as his partner and the mother of his children. He tells me I’m beautiful and loves my body, including all of the wreckage and battle scars left behind from 8 babies. And I am enough. My friends see me for who I am. They know I’m clumsy, goofy and imperfect. And they don’t even care that I wear Pajama Jeans. I am enough.

    It is easy (entirely too easy) to look at ourselves as the lesser version of our reality. We women are our biggest critics and shamers. Our own worst enemies. And we are passing down these practices to our children. It’s so important that we begin teaching our daughters that they are enough. That who they are in the inside will manifest itself into what they are on the outside. Let’s teach our girls, together, to claim their beauty, their strengths and their sense-of-self from within. First and always.

    Everything on the outside is literally just the icing on the cake.

    It’s time, ladies. And I know you can do it. Because you are enough.

    @perfectlydestressed

    Ramblings of a Mother

    The beginning.

    married couple perfectlydestressed.com

     

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    When I married Edward, my life changed for the absolute best. We agreed to jump into this marriage thing head on and take on life together for better for worse, for richer for poorer.
    I am pretty sure we thought we would have a few kids and be so much “cooler” than our parents. But, like so many young newlyweds, were we so wrong!
    We had no idea what God had in store.
    Here we are, 13 years later, blessed with 8 healthy, amazing kids and a parental style that deeply resembles the ideals and principals we were both raised with.
    In honor of that day, and every blessed day since, I am starting this chronicle of our life. I want to share our love, our laughs, our struggles and our failures. I want to leave behind a legacy of faith and hope for our children. I want them to know that mom was more than just the taxi driver or dinner maker. I want them to know how my every day was filled with deeds, thoughts and prayers to keep their hearts happy, keep their bellies full, to keep their home warm and welcoming and keep smiles on their beautiful faces. I want them to understand that dad worked tirelessly to provide us with what we needed because he loved us more than words can express. I want them to see there is so much to love about life and so many reasons to be happy.
    Most importantly, I want them to remember our family motto: “We are not quitters.” Because some days I’m killing it, and some days are killing me. But tomorrow, I get to try again. And by remembering our faith and love of the Lord, we will get through this crazy train together.

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