This week we spent 3 out of 5 days with our friends. Tanya is my El Paso bestie – she’s like my other half here. She watched Bella when I was in NYC for a day until Sam got home. Her son is Elijah, he’s a year, and above is Kenzie (or Key as Bella says). She’s 7 weeks younger than Bella.

The pic above was Kenzie learning how to use scissors. I taught Bella last week and she’s been a serious “clipper” ever since. Honestly – I hate this pic simply because I don’t know what I was thinking shooting children at 1/60 seconds :/ and they all turned out blurry and then sharpening made them a little worse…

Amateur. But – now I know for next time!

We’re starting to do informal preschool with the girls this fall at our house. Both Tanya and I are thrilled about that. We’re using a Montessori type style with lots of play and learning real life, motor, and pre-writing skills. No curriculum, no booklets, no seatwork.

As a former preschool/kindergarten teacher I have waited anxiously for this day. I’m still figuring out a schedule in between working from home and all the home stuff that waits for me, but we’re getting there.

Beyond playdates and homeschooling, there is our S. Korean adoption which…

drumroll please… (more…)

“I don’t understand,” the mom says, leaning forward. Her eyes are full of confusion and doubt. “Why on earth would you want to homeschool?”

And I? Am stumped.

Not so much as why – but how to explain it to her. I want to tell her to hold while I type out a post or pull up an old one and then have her read it.

As I stumble my way through talking about it, I begin to realize we are on different pages. More so than she and I thought previously. Not bad ones. Not better ones. Just different.

This is one of the first times I’ve started to see how much of a bubble blogging can put you in.

(more…)

In the world of blogging, Facebook and Instagram, often the life of a stay at home mom is painted in filtered, cropped pictures. There are smiling children, art projects, activities, and creative lunches. There are darling outfits and playdates where we sip coffee as our children bond with each other.

But this is a very small part of a very long job.

As Bella gets older, I find my role shifting. From “I’ll just take you with me and have a life” to “Let’s do whatever you want to do as long as it prevents another meltdown and makes you so tired you take a 3 hour nap today.”

The sacrifice of a SAHM is usually talked about along the lines of dealing with children all day. And this is part of it. It’s not easy to deal with the same child day in and day out. Being a teacher was a lot easier – I didn’t have to focus all my attention on one the entire day.

But the other sacrifices are rarely spoken of. Like the self motivation it takes to be at home, the guilt, the frustration, the financial toll. The mental toll.

I’m great with a purpose and a deadline. Teaching was a phenomenal job for me because every day ended with a lesson being finished, a classroom being cleaned, and the children going home. But now it’s different. Toys are everywhere. Books are all over. I spend Bella’s nap and my evenings putting together puzzles, shelving books, cleaning up food stuck to chairs and the floor, and repeat. Over and over again. There is no break. Her nap timing is up to her (length wise), which makes it hard for me to relax. I have no boss. No deadline. There is a schedule that I make myself stick to for her sake, and mine.

Then there is the guilt. Knowing that at a daycare, Bella would be with other children. Her development would be monitored, her days planned by professionals. Even with the child development background I have, I often wonder if I’m on the right track. If Bella is getting the mental stimulation and the physical challenges she needs? The guilt that hovers as I have a horrible day and find myself longing for work. With a Starbucks in one hand and a clean new outfit on – and a paycheck to take home.

You know. Something that tells me what I accomplished this week was worth being paid for.

Financially, staying at home was something I fell into because we realized we couldn’t afford daycare. I had always been convinced I’d go back to work, and let me be clear – I’m so, so very glad I’ve never had to. But I didn’t know that 2 years into being at home I’d start to want to find a way to contribute financially. It is hard to not afford things at times. We are lucky that most of our debt is gone. But this is because we’ve had to forgo so many other things. Vacations. New cars. A house. All of these and more have to be put on hold in order for me to be home without debt.

And as Bella gets older, the sacrifices we made will include her. She may need her own loans for college. She may not get her own car at 16, there may not be soccer lessons and brand new clothes each year at school. I hope she realizes that this is ok because of what we chose instead.

Staying at home can mean just that a lot of the time. Playdates may seem like such fun and frivolity – but often they are simply for me and the other mom’s sanity. It’s hard to continually hear one word sentences mixed with temper tantrums 12 hours a day 5 days a week without wondering if you yourself are even able to speak a full sentence. Playdates are my excuse to take a shower earlier than normal, to wear something clean, to take just a little longer with makeup and hair.

It’s not easy to stay upbeat, creative, and grateful everyday. I do have so many little reminders, but often I find myself in the slump of, “Really? Didn’t we just do lunch? A poop? Laundry? Cleaning?” With no TV and too hot to go out past noon, there are many days I think, “How many days in a row have we done this?”

I love what I do. But I think at times we only show the pretty side of staying at home. And my friends, there are many days where it is anything but pretty here. I often envy the working mom. I do. There are days I dream of daycare, when Bella throws herself down on the floor screaming for the 9th time in an hour and I have no one to turn to. It’s just me. It may take a village to raise a child but my village, as an Army wife and SAHM, is very small.

So we do the best we can. I tell myself on hard days that a shower and wearing something nice that might have peanut butter smeared on it is worth it if I feel a little bit more in control. I try to find a way out of the rut with art and playdates. I read books on parenting that help me feel better about where Bella is.

My hope is that one day, Bella will realize I did this for her just like a working mom does it for their kids. My sacrifice is hers – just as every child has to have some of the share of whatever decision their parent makes. There isn’t a better choice. Each has pros and cons. I just want my choice to be one where I did my very best with what I was given.

I posted on going to a meetup.com playdate a while back, and told you all how I was debating going or not. Well, I did, and I’m so glad you guys convinced me to.

However, nothing ever goes smoothly with me – so here’s what happened.

The playdate was at 4pm. Google said the home it was being hosted at was about 15 minutes away. At 1pm, I suddenly remember I have no clean pants or shirts.

At 2pm I realize this again. I have no idea what happened between those times. I think I did my hair.

2:30. I begin to look in my closet for ideas. I try on 5 different shirts, and throw each one of them on the bed with growing anger as I realize I looked like the Goodyear blimp in all of them. It’s 75 degrees out, but I have no short sleeves. So I put on a long sleeved shirt.

Actually…sweater. :/ It is my favorite and hides my rolls nicely.

2:45. Sweating a little, I begin to search for pants. Que anger. Again, nothing fits. I lay on the bed in my underpants and sweater and began to panic. What would I do? Everyone was going to wonder why I was so porky and attending the Healthy Moms playdate.

3:00. Bella wakes from her nap in cranky mode. I realize that she too must be dressed. I rummage through her closet and put her in an adorable outfit with socks and shoes. I have had run in’s with her being barefoot before and didn’t want to hear it.

3:20. Freaking out. Why didn’t I lay out clothes the night before? Why didn’t I wash anything? I consider going in a dress, and then start laughing. I finally find pants with moderate food stains from Bella and take a washcloth to them in the bathroom.

3:30. Almost time to go. I’ve made myself sick over wearing this stupid long sleeved shirt sweater. I’ve rehearsed saying in my head, “Gosh, it was so much colder where I am than up here!” I can’t find my flip flops and have to wear sneakers, adding to the overdressed effect.

3:40. Bella, me, the giant diaper bag and my sweater all fit in to the car. I head out (dying but cranking up the air conditioning).

4:00. I pull up to a rather massive home in a neighborhood that looks like a scene out of Desperate Housewives and say a silent prayer that they will like me despite the sweater and my lack of playdate knowledge. They’ll love Bella (everyone does) so her prayers selfishly go for me.

Playdate goes well. I am not asked about the sweater, although I do make a comment on the weather (to discourage anyone thinking I am a moron). All the moms wear shorts or jeans, sandals, and tank tops/short sleeves. I look like I might be heading to the Arctic after the playdate.

Bella is the only child with shoes and socks (naturally), so off they go as soon as I can grab her. She’s headed to the Arctic too so…

While there, one of the moms says that her friend has already submitted a letter of intent to her child’s kindergarten, ensuring they will hold a place for him. The kid is 4 months old. Her friend is trying to convince her that if she doesn’t do this for her 10 month old daughter, her child will never be able to attend a good college.

I throw up a little in my mouth. I think everyone else did too. The mom telling the story is clearly still in shock by this. I really liked her.

Bella had a blast, and the other moms were wonderful. The kids were all between 9-11 months so everyone was on the same page physically and mentally. It made for a really fun afternoon.

I got home, removed the sweater, and swore that next time, I would be a heck of a lot more casual. I also joined two more groups and found a baby gym we’ll be going to during the week.

As for the Arctic, it was too expensive. And you have to have more than a long sleeved shirt to survive there. Who knew I’d be under dressed for something?