Reinforcement needed.

Tell me I'm not the only mom who feels the need to apologize to everyone that my toddler comes in contact with because, on any given occasion, said toddler can be completely rude to anyone that tries to talk to her. It doesn't matter if it's a stranger or family, I feel like I'm constantly apologizing. "I'm sorry she won't talk to you, friend of mine. She's grumpy."  "I'm sorry she just grunted at you, Meemaw. She loves you. She's just almost three and can be kind of a rude right now." "I'm sorry dad. I know she's your granddaughter. I wish I could explain why she doesn't want to spend time with you. But I can't. I don't know why she's acting like that. I'm sorry."

Tell me I'm not the only mom that goes to bed every single night and tells myself that I'm going to do better tomorrow. That I'm not going to yell. I'm not going to lose my patience.  I'm going to play with her and do fun projects. And then I wake up the next morning and my daughter throws her shoes across the room because they're purple instead of pink and tells me she doesn't love me and throws herself into the floor and refuses to move and we're ten minutes late for the day and I lose my patience. And I yell. And it starts all over again before 8:15 am. 

Tell me I'm not the only mom that does actually tell herself that her tactics aren't succeeding.  So I do make a conscious effort to not yell, to be patient, to play more, to let it go when she wants her second cup of strawberry milk instead of insisting she drink water. And you do a good job of being a "better mom" for a solid week. And during that entire week, your kid treats you like total crap. She tells you things like "I don't want you to pick me, mom!" "I don't love you!" "I only want my daddy!!" So you feel completely defeated. Like you absolutely cannot win no matter what you do. 

Tell me I'm not the only mom that legitimately wonders if her kid loves her. Or even likes her at this point. 

Tell me I'm not the only mom that wants just a day off to gather her sanity so she doesn't have a total mental breakdown. 

Tell me I'm not the only mom that is scared to death that my kid is going to turn out to be a brat. That she truly is going to be a kid where the disciplining tactics just do not sink in and I'm forever raising a brat that demands every single thing to be her way, even though I've spent most waking moments with her insisting that she is not going to get her way by demanding anything. 

Tell me I'm not the only mom that kind of dreads some days because I'm nervous about how the interactions with my almost 3 year old are going to go. (Note: I'm not scared of my child. I am not scared to tell her no in the least. I am scared of having every single day of my waking life being a fight with my kid.)

Tell me I'm not the only mom that looks other moms and their toddlers and wonder what on earth she could be doing differently and why her child is so well behaved and why yours isn't. 

Tell me that I'm not the only mom that feels like a total failure. That no matter what you do, what you say, how many times people say "it's just a phase," you feel like you're failing at absolutely every single aspect of motherhood. 

Tell me I'm not the only mom who feels this way. 

Life with a Toddler. Unedited.

Here are some random thoughts I have on raising a toddler.  They're random because a.) I'm sick, hopped up on allergy meds and throat drops, b.)  I'm raising a toddler.  All cohesive thoughts and rational thinking have gone out the window.  A long, long time ago.

Taking pictures in a clean home is near impossible.  My standards of a clean home pre-toddler and post-toddler are two entirely different things.  Pre-toddler, I would wince if I saw a full sink of dirty dishes in my otherwise clean home.  Avery's toys were neatly put away every night and were only brought out when I decided it was time to play.  Post-toddler, I'm happy if I have half the kitchen table cleared off (and by "cleared off," I obviously mean "pushed over in a bigger pile on the other side") so we can have dinner at the table together (and by "dinner," I obviously mean "grilled cheeses or cereal that required little effort because my toddler has me completely drained of all energy and I have no idea how to even work the oven anymore.").  Post-toddler, I'm happy if one room out of our entire house is picked up.  The rest? Well, I'll get to it another day.  Once upon a time, if my child was doing something cute, I could take a picture of her and not worry about the pile of laundry that's sitting behind her because.....*gasp* there wasn't any dirty laundry lying around.  Now, screw it.  I'm taking that picture, mountain of laundry and dust bunnies in the background be darned.  This is me in all my dirty imperfection.  Love me....or don't.  The dirty socks will be there, regardless.

Peeing and going to the grocery alone are luxuries.  I don't know how my child does it.  I think she has a little alarm embedded into her brain that goes off as soon as I step foot in the bathroom.  Avery could be on the other side of the house, in her playroom, playing happily with her Little People and the second I tiptoe into the bathroom, there she is.  Standing at my side declaring "I go potty too, Mommy!"  No.  You don't have to pee.  We both know this.  You're going to come in the bathroom, stare at me as I go to the bathroom, ask a million questions and then declare "My pee pee changed its mind" when I ask if you're going to use the potty too.  You just can't stand the idea of me peeing in solitude.

And do I even need to express the gloriousness that is grocery shopping alone?  I recently read a blog about "how not to raise a brat" (because, well, I'm afraid we're teetering dangerously close over that brat ledge and I search Google to help me feel like a better mom and not a complete failure) and this blogger, Divine Caroline, boasted that her two daughters not once ever threw a fit in public for something they wanted. Well, how wonderful for you, Divine Caroline.  You're either 1.) lying or 2.) raising the most perfect human beings that will grow up to be the next Mother Teresa and Gandhi of their generations.  My child, on the other hand, is the one that's throwing a fit for Mickey Mouse duct tape that I'm not buying for her because it's freaking duct tape.  I would rather grocery shop at 2 am, sans toddler, than take one more trip down the snack aisle with my kid begging for every single box of Disney character fruit chews manufactured.  I just can't.

As a parent of a toddler, you feel like everyone is judging you.  Let's be honest.  Most people probably are, in fact, judging you.  Like that woman in the vehicle next to yours in the grocery store parking lot, witnessing your kid's meltdown because you dared to take her out of the shopping cart and put her in her own carseat.  Yes, she probably is giving you the "get that kid under control" look.  Just let it go.  That woman probably doesn't know what it's like to try to get that toddler into her carseat (in case you're wondering?  It's like wrestling a bag of writhing snakes on speed) and buckled into the 10 safety harnesses while trying not to pinch her delicate skin while she thrashes around.  For some reason, the toddler has decided that the grimy Walmart shopping cart in the parking lot under the scorching sun is a better place to be than in the car where there's toys and air conditioning and Sofia the First tunes blaring.  Because that makes perfect sense.  Toddler logic.  My point is, those people giving you the look of death in the store while you're trying to weather a temper tantrum of epic proportions probably have no idea what life is like with a toddler (God bless their naive souls.  You were that blissful once).  Give them your best smile and roll on.  They'll either feel sorry for you or think you're crazy.  Either way, they'll leave you alone.

If it's family you feel are doing the judging, grin and bear it, friend.  They're family.  They have an opinion on everything.  Whether it's right or wrong, they're in your life forever and there's no point in lashing out at them because they think you handled a situation wrong.  Trust me from experience on this one.  Unless it's your mom.  Then take that opportunity to ask her for advice on how to handle your demon child wonderful blessing.  I'm sure her advice is plentiful.  Soak it up, young padawan.  After all, you were a toddler once and she managed not to kill you or run away from home. In my book, she's a wildly successful parent if she managed these two things.

Meltdowns are going to happen.  Frequently.  Over everything from the color of her socks to the plate her sandwich is sitting on for lunch (How DARE you serve her pb&j on a Minnie Mouse plate.  Didn't you know that she was feeling like dining on Frozen tableware today?  Fool).  Hang in there, mom.  No matter how many articles you read or "experts" on the subject state otherwise, there is no magic answer when it comes to raising a toddler.  There may be tips on how to handle meltdowns or what to do when they happen, but remember.  Not every trick works on every child.  Time outs work for some, taking privileges away works for others.  Or you can be Avery and nothing--not time out, not taking things away, not pleading, not acting mad/sad/disappointed--works and you just pray to God that ONE DAY, all your hard work and disciplining will pay off and you'll wake up and the sun will be shining and angels will be singing and you'll go an entire day without fighting with your kid because she finally just gets it.  Lord, didn't mean to go on that tangent.  Pray for me.

Those pre-toddler dreams you had of having the best dressed child around?  Kiss 'em goodbye.  On any given day, my child's outfit can range from "hobo" to "Princess" to "pink explosion."  It just depends on her mood.  Recently, I let my child pick out her entire outfit.  The bow, down to the shoes, were all varying shades of pink--including the tutu she insisted was necessary to complete the ensemble.  This is all because the subject of "what Avery wears" falls firmly in the "fights that I'm not about to get into" category.  Picking your battles is an essential part of toddler motherhood and this is a battle I'm not willing to wage.  Thank you for all your adorable emails full of smocks and seersucker pants, Lolly Wolly Doodle.  I'm currently taking Avery to Walmart in socks and sandals and a neon glitter shirt featuring Dora the Explorer riding a unicorn and just hope people don't stare.

Toddlers don't have a filter.  Embarrassment results.  I wish I could tell you how many times I've walked into a crowded bathroom with my kid, locked the stall door, only to hear her declare loudly, "ARE YOU GOING TO GO POO POO MOMMY??"  Bless.  I'll be so happy when the "Just because I'm thinking it doesn't mean I should say it" ability is developed so we can actually go out in public again.   When does that happen?  Age 10?

Toddler moms, you're doing a good job.  Yes, you, mom that yells too much (guilty).  Yes, you, mom that just bribed her kid with bubbles if he ate two bites of broccoli off his plate.  Yes, you, mom that's sitting in a blubbering mess her bathroom floor with a full glass of "Purple Toad Black and Bruised" wine because you're convinced you're doing this whole "raising a baby into a respectable human being" thing all wrong.  You're doing a good job.  No, you may not have all the answers.  And if you do, please take an afternoon and visit my home to give me tips.  Yes, you may be having thoughts of just running away for awhile.  No, you may not be making Pinterest worthy dinners or have a child that is dressed like she just stepped out of a Lily Pultizer magazine.  You're doing a good job.  One day, in the near future, we'll emerge on the other side of this toddler motherhood thing.  We may be forever altered when we do, but we'll make it.  One day, our children will thank us.  It may not be until they're 28 with toddlers of their own, but they'll appreciate the effort and embarrassment and hours of abuse we endured.  One day, we'll have well behaved human beings that benefited from our parenting and we'll look back on this chapter of our lives with fondness and recall how adorable our children were when they were young.  I hope.

Prayer for Patience.

This morning was a rough one for Avery and I.  The past week has been a horrible display of 2 year old attitude, temper tantrums and pushing every boundary she could.  It's been an amazing test of my patience and my limit as a mother.

This morning, though, it all came to a head.

Avery woke up early and, as a result, fell back asleep before I was ready to dress her and get her ready for school.  When I went to wake her, it was obvious that she was not waking up in a good mood.  It was a barrage of screamed "NO!"s, "I want my daddy!!!"s and "YEAVE ME A-YONE!"s.  Normally, I can calm her down.  I can talk to her in a soothing voice and help her realize that she's not being a good girl.  She has her few minutes of crying and then she's calm.  Not this morning.

This morning, I could do no right.

She didn't want to take her pajamas off and wear real clothes.  She wanted to wear her Dora slippers to school.  She didn't want me to dress her--she only wanted her daddy.  She didn't want me to fix her hair, put her scarf on, help her with her jacket.  She didn't want me to get her Minnie out of bed or touch her new baby doll.  She didn't want me to carry her to the car.

This morning was HORRIBLE.

Normally, on the way to school, Avery and I talk the whole way.  We sing along with Dora.  I laugh when she declares that the "baby sun is too bwight" for her eyes and very diva-ishly puts on her pink Dora sunglasses.  We talk about school and who she's going to see.  She asks me about the cars and buildings we pass by and I listen in wonder when she tells me "Dat's a bank.  Dat's where dey keep all tha monies."

This morning, we sat in silence.

In the silence of my car, I fought with myself.  Is this worth it?  Is it worth getting on her when she acts like this?  Is it worth listening to the screams and fighting with her because I just want her to be well-behaved and polite?

I'm tired.  I'm so tired of being the disciplinarian.  For once, I'd like to be the one that steps back and doesn't have to do the ugly job of disciplining.  I'm tired of fighting with my two year old.

I second-guess myself.  Am I doing the right thing?  Am I getting on to her too much?  Should I just be letting all of this go and not worry about if she wants to wear the same Dora shirt for the 4th day in a row?  Or am I not getting on her enough and that's why she's acting out like this?

This morning, I felt like a total and complete failure as a mother.

I see friends on Facebook talk about their polite, well-behaved children.  Don't get me wrong, my child is polite.  When she does something wrong (most of the time), she knows it and she apologizes on her own.  She says please and thank you without me reminding her.  She's mostly well-behaved.  She's great in town and on shopping trips and people tell me all the time what a good girl she is.  But lately, there have been more and more instances when she's been sullen to family members.  Growling at them whenever they say hello.  Refusing to go talk to people.  Grunting when people attempt to talk to her.  And these are the situations in which I wonder if I'm doing the right thing.

This morning, I felt defeated.

Motherhood is the hardest job I have EVER held, by far.  And this morning, I was waving the white flag. Tears ran down her face and I fought back my own.  I hate fighting with her.  Yes, she's the daughter and I'm the mom and being my child's best friend is not my number one priority in life.  But that doesn't mean that I enjoy disciplining her.  I hate it, in fact.  I hate putting my child in the corner.  I hate making her apologize to someone when she's in the wrong.  I hate making her pick up her toys, while she fights me with every step.  I hate, hate, hate when she looks up at me, eyes full of tears, like I've completely broken her heart.  I don't want to be the bad guy.  I would love to be Fun Mommy, 24/7.  I would love to play with her and let her make messes and never clean them up.  I would love it if I never had to get on her for the rest of our days.  But I know that if I want to be a good mom and raise a well-behaved child, that's completely unrealistic.

I'm like any other mother out there with a toddler.  Trying hard and constantly feeling like I'm coming up short.  If I have another morning (or afternoon, or night) like this one....and I'm sure there will be many more to come....I'll recite this prayer instead.

And this isn't just for me.  This is for you, too.  You, mother of two, with a quick swipe of eyeliner applied in a hurry in an attempt to look even halfway presentable in public.  You, mother of a daughter that is the spitting image of yourself, crying for those pink sparkle shoes in Walmart, when you really just want to get your jug of milk and loaf of bread and leave. You, mother with Cheerios in your hair, rewinding that same episode of Paw Patrol for the 5th time that day, because it'll buy you another 30 minutes of peace.  You're just like me.  You're trying hard.  You're burning dinner and forgetting that load of laundry that's been in the washing machine for 48 hours.  You're stepping on building blocks in the dark and picking up bath toys every morning so you can take a shower.  I feel for you.  I'm here.  I understand.  And we can say this prayer together.

Lord, I love my child with all my heart, 

but she's testing my patience today. 

Her shoes aren't right, her pants aren't pink,

she's screaming just to get her way.

Moments like this, I want to quit,

I think I'm failing at every attempt.

At 9 months pregnant, I thought I'd be perfect, 

Motherhood is not all that I had dreamt. 

I thought it'd be easy, I'd have all the answers,

I'd know exactly what to do. 

Instead, I stumble, I fall short daily, 

which is why I'm calling out toYou.  

Help me to remember that I have a Father

in whose footsteps I should walk. 

Give me Your heart, for patience, 

in my actions and how I should talk. 

I need a reminder in times like these
to think and act patiently.
Help me love her, despite the flaws,
just like You do with me.

I'm Lost.

I don't have a single clue what I'm doing.

I have a two year old in my house. And, up until about three weeks ago, I felt pretty confident in my parenting skills. No, I didn't have all the answers and I didn't feel like I was doing everything exactly right, but I felt like the steps I was taking was going to lead down a path that ends with a well-behaved child. 

That's all gone. Any confidience I once had in myself and my parenting abilities have flown right out the window. 

This past week has been, BY FAR, the most challenging I have ever had since Avery has been born. In the past week, it's been non-stop moodiness, whining, crying, indecisiveness and pooping in her pants. The last one frustrates me the most. Avery was potty trained before she was two. Something I'm pretty proud of. And it didn't take too much effort on my part. Avery basically decided, by waking up dry for a solid week, that she was ready to be potty trained. And we haven't looked back. Yes, we had a few accidents in the beginning, but it's been a very long time since she's had one. So this recent string of running to me (two out of the three days, she had just been on the potty not 10 minutes prior to the "incidents"), telling me that she'd pooped her pants is completely mind boggling to me. 

Now, I'm not stupid. I know she's two. And accidents are to be expected because she's been potty trained for far less than a year. But three days in a row of the same behavior that we haven't had a problem with before? I don't get it. 

Then there's the moodiness. I thought we weren't going to have to deal with that until she was well into the pre-teen years. But, lo and behold, I have a two year old that just cannot be satisfied. We eat dinner, she cries because we gave her a blue bowl instead of the dirty Minnie Mouse one that's sitting in the sink, waiting to be washed. I get her ready for school and let her pick out 90% of her outfit, she cries because she doesn't like the pants I'm putting on her. Most evenings are more of the same--wants me to hold her, then cries because she's not sitting in her Princess chair. Wants me to give her Dora fruit chews, then cries when I hand her an open bag of them. I. Don't. Get it. 

Again, I know she's two. I know she's going to be testing her limits and seeing what she can get away with and displaying her newfound toddler attitude. But this whining and displeasure with every single thing? Baffles me. And makes me feel like a total failure. 

Is it something I'm doing wrong? Do I discipline her too much? Should I be taking away things instead of putting her in time out? Am I disciplining wrong and that's what is causing the outbursts and all out refusal to listen to anything I tell her? I've always been pretty confidient in my role as a mom. I knew when I was being hard on Avery, but felt confidient that I was doing it for the right reasons and to make her into a well-behaved child. Now, I feel like the insecure child, afraid to make any move concerning my child out of fear that it will be the wrong thing. 

I know there's no "right" answer. I know there's no handbook on how kids are supposed to act at this age and how I'm supposed to handle it when they do. Every child is different. While one child responds to time outs, the other does better with the silent treatment. I know there's no magic remedy to get me through the toddler years without the terrible twos and threes. I just wish I could feel confident that I'm doing the right things and I'm going to be rewarded with a fairly well behaved and respectable child down the road. Anyone have a crystal ball I can borrow??

Four Letter Word.

I'm so nervous to say this.

But I think a confession is the best thing for everyone involved. 

I think I have a........*whispered voice* a b-r-a-t on my hands.

Ugh. That hurts to even say it. As a momma, I think my baby is the world's most precious human being.  But the last three weeks, that human being has become scarily close to being unbearable to live with. Yesterday, I kid you not, she stood in our kitchen and screamed and cried until she was on the verge of making herself throw up. Why, you ask?   Because I gave her an orange spoon to eat her cereal with....instead of a purple one. Swear.  An. Orange. Spoon. Made her gag and cry for a solid ten minutes. I couldn't make this stuff up, y'all. 

Most evenings are more of the same. Throwing her Minnie Mouse down in the floor because I won't let her watch a third episode of Bubble Guppies. Sticking her lip out farther than I thought was humanly possible because I won't let her have a Popsicle for dinner. And let's talk for a second about bedtime. My almost-27 month old STILL does not sleep consistently through the night. We will go three nights without a single peep from her from 9pm to 7am. Then we'll have an entire week where I'm getting up with her twice a night. Avery used to be the best baby to put down for sleep at night. We had our routine. She'd watch some TV, snuggle with her daddy and I, and then go straight to bed without a complaint. Now? She's decided that she's too big for bedtime and that she should be able to decide when she goes to sleep. Right this very second, I'm listening to my kid scream over the monitor about the very injustice of being in bed since 9:30.  (Update: I went into her room and told her who was boss and that I didn't want to hear another sound. She's sleeping. *Fist thrust into the air for a mommy victory!*)

I'm losing my sanity, people. I'm so tired of repeating myself a million and one times every time I have to tell her something ("Avery, sit down in your chair. Avery, sit down in your booster chair before you fall out. Avery, sit down right now. Avery, I am NOT going to tell you again. Do you want to get in trouble? Sit down in your chair NOW.") I honestly feel like the biggest chunk of my time with my daughter is spent disciplining her. I sit her in time out. I try reasoning with her and telling her that people don't like it when she's a bad girl (Yes, I hear you laughing. No, that crap didn't work.).  I try taking things away, hoping that she'll correct her behavior if she's not getting whatever she wants. I've tried ignoring her (that makes her cry louder...it's really terrible for everyone involved). Honestly, I'm sick and daggone tired of being the bad cop. Really, who decided that the mom is the one that has to lay down the rules and then enforce them while the daddy gets to swoop in and save the day and be the plaything?  Was it Eve? Because really, Eve. Thanks so much for childbirth. Don't we have more than enough bones to pick with you already? 

Everyone tells me that this behavior is normal. That she'll grow out of it. That three is worse than two and then she'll grow out of it (Dear Lord, if that's the case, just go ahead and bury me now because I will not live through another year of this). There has to be a way that I can nip this in the bud. I don't want a bratty child. I don't want to be *that* mom in every store who is mortified every time she makes the decision to bring her kid in public. I don't want other people to dislike being around Avery because she's too much of a brat.  I want to be a strict mom that has a child that realizes that she's not going to take any crap, but at the same time, can be fun to be around.  I want to get to be the good cop sometimes. Am I being too Pollyanna-ish?  Help. Me.  Really. I'm on the verge of chewing Prozac like candy. 

Preach It.

This is going to be less of a blog post and more of a "go read this other blog post right now because it's fantastic."

Go read this.  "Dear parents, you need to control your kids.  Sincerely, non-parents."

I cannot say anything better than what he said here.  Sadly, I think I used to be one of those people.  Who rolled her eyes and thought "Why can't that lady get her kid under control?" or "I don't see why she doesn't just step outside until her kid stops screaming." Boy have the tables turned.  I've been that lady in the grocery with her kid that is just FREAKING OUT because I didn't let her get the giant box of fruit chews.  And he's totally right.  As idealistic as it sounds for everyone else around you, you can't leave your entire cart full of groceries that your family needs for the next two weeks just sitting in the aisle so you can get your toddler under control.

He didn't mention it in his blog, but I'll mention it here.  It's not just non-parents either.  Admit it.  You've been in the grocery with your own child and witnessed another mom with a toddler mid-epic meltdown.  You've felt sorry for her, but you've also silently judged "Thank goodness my kid doesn't act THAT bad."  
Parents, non-parents, let's knock it off.  The mom in the grocery or in church or in the waiting room is trying her best.  She doesn't want her kid to be screaming any more than you do.  Cut her some slack.

One of Those Days.

Do you guys ever just have one of those days?  You know the kind....

...when your kid gets up at 3:45, 4:30 from apparent night terrors/bad dreams/growing pains/just being spoiled and knowing mommy will come running if she screams your name.

...when your kid keeps you up until 5:30 and you know your alarm is going off in 45 minutes....and it takes you every bit of 20+ minutes to fall back asleep.

....when you turn your alarm off and immediately fall back asleep....only to wake 45 minutes later in a total panic.

...when you're frantically throwing makeup on your face and your husband comes in and informs you that he's been throwing up.

....when you rush around in the morning, trying to get to the sitter and work on time, all while having that nagging feeling that you're forgetting something.

...when you drop your child off at the sitters and promptly inform them that your child has not had breakfast, has not peed in the potty yet, is still wearing a Pull-Up when she should have training pants on....finally, hand them a giant bag of wet baby-sized underwear that you'd planned to dry that morning for your toddler to wear today, but didn't because you fell back asleep when your alarm went off.

....when you get to work and you haven't been there 10 minutes when you give yourself a nasty paper cut that draws blood and requires a band-aid.

....when you are listening to your "Matchbox 20" Pandora station in an attempt to wake yourself from the sleep-deprived haze you're in and the phone rings...when you walk towards the phone, your headphones tangle and pull your phone off your desk and hurls it face down on the tile floor.

....when you get home and decide to attempt to shake off the crappy day and make a homemade dinner.  You decide to make cauliflower crust pizza, because you're gluten intolerant and you haven't had pizza in practically forever and you miss it, dang it!

.....when the recipe calls for "riced cauliflower" to be cooked in a microwave for 8 minutes.  You cook it, making your entire kitchen smell like fish and causes your husband to complain and open the kitchen window.

....when you continue making the pizza, thinking it looks promising when it comes out of the oven, even though it made your kitchen smell like rotten sea animals.

....when you bite into the pizza, which was extremely crispy on the edges, and discover that the bottom is almost raw and completely soggy.

...when you toss the entire thing into the garbage and pour yourself a large bowl of Fruity Pebbles.

...when your child climbs into your lap and demands multiple bites of your cereal because she can't just give you 3 minutes to enjoy a childhood sugary cereal without interruption.

...when you get on your laptop to blog about your crappy day and your laptop is completely screwed up and will not connect to the Internet, so you have to blog from your ipad, which gives you finger cramps.

Have you ever had one of these exact days?  I thought so.

Time to Talk Potty.

Welcome to the Gaddie household.  Step inside and hear me use the word "pee pee,"  "poo-poo" and "big girl panties" probably more than you ever wanted to hear them in your life.  That's right.  We have officially begun potty training.  It has literally happened overnight.

You may remember, maybe a month ago, I took Avery to Walmart to pick out her very own "big girl" potty. We brought home our very own Disney Princess potty that sat proudly in mommy and daddy's bathroom.  My intentions were to get the potty early, talk about it, get her accustomed to the fact that we had a potty that she was going to use and then start training after she turned two.  But, in true Avery style, SHE'S decided when we're going to do things, and to heck with my plans.  She woke up 4 mornings in a row in a completely dry diaper.  I thought that was suspicious, so I immediately called my mom to get her opinion.  She told me that I needed to start potty training.  Cue panic mode.  I have NO idea how to potty train a child.  Every other process we've gone through has been pretty self-explanatory:  Sleep training:  let her cry it out.  Wean off the bottle and paci:  take them away and don't give them back.  Wean off formula and give regular milk:  gradually introduce it until she's full time milk and no more formula.  Easy.  Potty training?  Not so much.  You basically can't do it just "willy-nilly."  It works best, from what I've heard and read, if you have a plan in  place.  To Pinterest I went!  I scoured blogs and potty training advice sites and then developed my own plan:

1.  Putting her straight into "big girl underwear."  Skipping Pull-Ups (except at nighttime....we'll just call them her "special nighttime panties" or something like that) because they're too much like diapers.  In regular underwear, she'll be able to recognize that she's wet or dirty, not like the feeling and hopefully correct it sooner.  We're doing Gerber potty training pants on first (more absorption ..less mess if she does have an accident), then pretty underwear on over it, so she feels special.

2.  Potty time before bed, as soon as she gets up and every 30 minutes during the day.

Fun tip:  Pull Ups, even though we're not using the product during daytime training, has a "Big Kid" iPhone app that you can download that has a ton of resources....a potty timer with Minnie Mouse that you can set to go off every 30 minutes, hour, whatever.  You can schedule a call to come from Minnie, Cinderella, Tow Mater, etc. to tell your toddler that it's time for a potty break (I WILL be trying that this weekend when I'm home with Avery).  Games they can play as a reward whenever they "go" in the potty.  Tons of ideas to make potty training more fun for your little.

3.  Rewards for pees and poops in the potty.  I thought about doing prizes from the Dollar Tree or something else for going "number 2," but realized that means more toys and knick knacks around my house, and that doesn't need to happen.  I decided on 1 M&M for pee, 2 for poops.

That's it.  We've literally hit the ground running.  When Avery and Marty got home yesterday, Avery and I immediately went to town to pick out her "big girl pannies."  I talked them up and told her that big girls like mommy and her cousin Kate, who she idolizes, wear them and now it was Avery's turn.  She was ecstatic when we picked them out.

Showing off her new big girl undies!

Excited about Princess "pannies!" 

I woke Avery up this morning, took her straight to the potty and it began!  I know that it's not going to be the easiest thing in the world.  She's going to have accidents (she peed a tiny bit in the floor this morning and immediately let me know so I could put her straight on the potty) and it's going to be a learning process that will take much longer than a few days, but it's worth it.  It means no more diapers, more money in my pocket and my little girl learning a major milestone.  With that, I have a tiny bit of hesitation.  Potty training means we've crossed into "big girl world."  It's amazing how quickly they grow up and are ready for the next milestone.  Sorry....sappy mommy moment.  *sigh*

"Mom.  Are you seriously taking my picture?"

"But I'm just wearing pannies!  Don't take my picture!!"

It's Potty Time!

We have entered the "potty training" zone in the Gaddie Household this week.  I'm not planning on pushing potty training for awhile, but I did want to go ahead and get Avery her very own potty so she could get used to it and we could be talking about it long before the official potty training began.  So Avery and I made a quick trip to Walmart this week to pick out her "big girl potty."  It was almost sad how ridiculously excited my child was about a toilet.  I let her choose between a Minnie Mouse and a Disney Princess potty (she picked Princesses....when did we cross into an alternate universe where my Minnie-loving daughter is suddenly obsessed with the Princesses???)  After adding it to our cart, she would randomly burst into giggles and announce to shoppers around us that we were carrying a potty around.  Yeah, that's real life.

I have a potty!!!!!!

Are you seeing my potty?!?

Seriously!!  It's RIGHT HERE!! 

Looks like my baby isn't much of a baby anymore.

Also, with potty training, I solemnly swear that you will never see a "Look!  Here's my kid sitting on the toilet" picture because:  1.  I don't think they're cute.  2.  I do want my child to eventually like me one day and know that I didn't take a picture of her on the toilet and share it with the entire world.  Just sayin'

It's Okay. Brag on Yourself.

I make it no secret that I want to be a "supermommy."  I want to be able to do it all, cook it all, clean it all, DIY it all.  When I don't meet those ridiculously high expectations that I've set for myself, I usually feel pretty down.  Make myself feel like a failure.  Focus on all the things that I'm not good at.  I have terrible self-confidence.  Before Avery, I thought little of it.  It's just "how I was."  Now that I have a daughter, I don't want her to grow up like that.  Focusing on her faults and things she can't do, rather than empowering herself and focusing on her assets and things she has to offer.  As a result, I'm going to list a few things that I know I do well.  Normally, I'd think this was bragging.  But why shouldn't I be able to point out all the things that I do really well instead of pointing out the times I fail?

• I can do almost anything one handed.  Put my kid in one hand and ask me to do anything with the other.  I'll amaze you. 
• I'm pretty creative.
• I can remember Disney movie quotes like it's nobody's business.  Try me. 
• I can be really witty when I wanna be. 
• I'm organized (just not at the moment in our new home).
• I think I have a talent for party planning.  Hope to make a career out of it someday. 
• I have a knack for finding super cute planners.  
• I am very tender-hearted and want to help people when I know they need it.
• I can spot carrots in a meal or in an ingredient list from a mile away.  It's a gift, really (or I have a carrot allergy and it makes it necessary.  Tomato, tamato).
• I make some kick-butt Kraft macaroni and cheese.

I didn't list these things for you to hate me or think that I'm bragging about anything (because I know you're super jealous of the carrot-spotting skill).  I did it because I want all of us supermommy wannabes to start thinking about all of the great things we do.  We're amazing women!  We carried our babies for 9 months and then endured hours of labor to bring our babies into this world and then went back to work a mere 6 weeks later (whose idea was that??)!  Or maybe you've been foster mommies or adoptive mommies and dealt with drama and legal systems and biological parents and lived to tell the story!  We've lived through terrible twos and spilled milk and burnt dinner and didn't break down and lose our minds!  We're Supermommies!  Why not focus on all the things we do amazingly?  Why not brag on ourselves a little bit.  Why shouldn't we pump each other up instead of tearing each other down?   Challenge for you:  make a list.  Right now.  Write down 10 things that you do really, really well that makes you the person that you are.  Then focus on that the rest of the day.  Stop thinking about all the things that are going wrong or you're not doing right.  See if that doesn't make a difference in your self-confidence and your attitude the rest of the day. 

Is it worth it?

Recently, I was having a conversation with a friend who decided to never have children.  When I pressed her on the reason why, she replied "Because I have lots of friends who are moms.  And when they tell me about motherhood, it just seems really hard.  It just never sounded worth it to me."  My first reaction was to sugar coat it "Noooo, parenting is so great, it's not hard, it's rainbows and puppies and butterflies 24/7....." because what kind of person wants to complain about being a parent?  But I thought that honesty was the better policy......

Parenting IS hard.  It's a job....one that sucks out loud sometimes.  It's waking up to throw up in the crib and glancing down to see poop in the bathtub.  It's labor and delivery and epidurals and recovery and doctor bills.  It's little sleep and being a walking zombie.  It's not getting to show my husband any affection whatsoever until my toddler goes to bed (we're dealing with jealousy issues right now). It's toddler tantrums and messy vehicles.  It's getting off work and starting my second job.  It's walking through the door in the evening and fitting in mealtime and cleanup time and playtime and listening to the "Winnie the Pooh" movie on repeat until I think I'm going to scream.  It's magnets under the couch and bread crumbs in the bed.  It's curling my hair with a toddler clinging to my legs.  It's HARD.

But, unlike most jobs, it comes with built-in rewards.  It's walking in the door at the babysitter's house and hearing her yell "Mommy!!" and watching her run to me like I'm the single most important person in the world.  It's pride when she learns a new word.  It's sticky kisses and squeezing hugs.  It's singing Mickey in the car and laughing when she does.  It's watching her grow and learn every day and knowing that I'm helping her become the person she's learning to be.  It's forgetting about all of the terrible things because the great things make it all worth it in the end.  I'd take a million poops in the bathtub for a "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!" and a kiss when I walk in the door.  Parenting isn't easy, by any stretch of the imagination.  I wish someone had opened my eyes to that in the beginning.  But.....I don't know that it would have mattered.  Because I'd do it all again in a second. 

Baby #2

I have an announcement to make, so listen really, really closely.......




I despise people that rush things.

There.  That's it.  My announcement.  Did I trick you? *mischievous giggle* Are you just here because you thought I was carrying another mini-Marty for the world to see?  Sorry to disappoint you guys.  Instead, I want to talk about exactly the opposite.

I hate it when people rush things in life.
When you start getting serious with your significant other, people are immediately like "When are you getting a ring??" 
When you get engaged...and I mean literally, the moment you get engaged, people are like "When's the wedding??"  "Not sure.  I just received a ring like 0.2 seconds ago."
Then, you get married and it doesn't take long for people to be like "When are you guys going to have a baby???" "I don't know.  In the meantime, we'll just practice :) (sorry mom.)." 
Finally, and my biggest pet peeve of all, before your little bundle of joy is even a year old, people are all "So, when's baby number two coming along??"

Here's the thing.  I realize that everyone has their own schedules.  Some couples want to be married for over 5 years before they even have the baby talk.  Some are ready for babies as soon as they get married (crazy kids).  Some people want one child.  Some people want multiple children spaced multiple years apart.  And then there's the people that barely let their babies stop being babies before they want another.  Lately, I've seen or heard people talking about having crazy baby fever and wanting a second baby before their first is even barely a year old.  Listen, if that's you, and I'm offending you right now, please accept my sincerest apologies.  I just don't understand it.  Avery, my one and only for the moment, turned 18 months old yesterday.  She's still a BABY to me.  She's my walking, talking, screaming, fighting, crying, smiling, giggling, pouting, learning daily, stubborn little baby.  Modern medicine and my pediatrician can call her a toddler if they like, but to me, she's still my baby.  She's still unsteady when she runs.  She still giggles when she learns something new.  She still curls up in a ball when she's still sleepy and when she wakes up in the morning.  She still sleeps like a baby (as in, not at all).  Yes, Avery is doing lots of toddler-ish things right now.  But she has SO many more milestones to hit before I want to think about bringing another little Gaddie into our household yet.  I would love it if my kid could eat normal food without pretending to choke.  I would love her to be potty trained (BIG one).  I would love if she could drink out of a straw by herself without spilling water all over herself (and me, and the floor, and Minnie Mouse).  I would love it if she would consistently sleep through the night (BIGGEST ONE OF ALL).  All of the things I still feel like Avery and I need to do before I even think about splitting my time with her and a sibling. 

Now, don't get me wrong.  I know plenty of people whose children are super close together and are incredibly awesome moms.  I just don't think I'd be one of them.  My child takes up 110% of my time right now.  I'm trying to be more involved in my community through Relay for Life, find a little more time to myself by crafting and trying to squeeze in time with my hubby every now and again.  Most of the time, simple things like cleaning house and doing laundry don't even fit into the schedule because I just am not a good homemaker/multi-tasker.  So the idea of having baby #2 right now (or even 9 months from now) sends me into a brown-paper-bag, full-blown panic attack zone.  Let me clarify something too.  Do I want more children?  Abso-freaking-lutely.  More than one more, if I can drug my husband into signing a contract that we can have more than two little Gaddies running around.  Do I want them to be spaced years apart?  Not exactly.  I'm not saying that I want to wait until Avery is in middle school before we have another baby (can you imagine how exhausting THAT would be??).  I'm just saying that I want maybe a year or two more to enjoy my baby now.  To watch her grow.  To watch her learn.  To know that I can devote all of my time to her without feeling guilty about needing to split my time with her brother or sister.  I'm not saying that there's a magic age or number of years your children should be spaced apart.  I'm just saying....quit trying to rush things people.  Enjoy your babies while they're still babies.  And let me enjoy mine.

Terrible Twos or Bratty Kid?

I've had a magic trick happen in my home.  One day, I had a happy baby that laughed often, snuggled with mommy and daddy, willingly gave kisses and hugs and was polite.  Then *poof*!  I wake up the next morning to a whiny, clingy, demanding little 17 month old.  Could this honestly be the dreaded "Terrible Twos" already?!?

What's happened to my sweet baby girl?  We are deep in the throes of Temper Tantrum Land.  Squealing or growling or just plain "pitching a fit" when she doesn't get her way.  Perfect example:  last night, we were driving home in my car.  Avery wanted to listen to her Mickey Mouse CD (isn't it funny how you know what they want without using any words?).  After a little while of listening, she was still grunting and growling at me, so I turned Mickey off.  When she threw a fit to listen to him again, I told her that if she wanted something she needed to say please.  Cue terrible tantrum.  Cue the pouty lip and the waving of fists.  Which made me insist: "Avery, we don't act like that to get what we want.  If you want to listen to Mickey, you have to say please."  You see, this line ALWAYS worked before.  Want a banana? to watch TV? to wear a bow in your hair?  You must say please.  And she would.  Until recently.  Now she'll throw a fit to get what she wants...saying please is an absolute thing of the past.  I would like to say that I don't give into those embarrassing temper tantrums, but sometimes you're caught in public when one comes on.  What do you do?  You leave your cart full of groceries in the aisle and walk back to your vehicle because your child just HAS to have that rubber ducky she spotted on the shelf?  Sometimes, it's just easier to give her the rubber ducky that will keep her entertained the rest of the time we're in the store.  I know that's not the best thing to do.  So sue me.  It's hard disciplining a 17 month old.  She doesn't fully understand everything I'm trying to tell her.  I say "We don't pull mommy's hair.  That's not a nice thing to do Avery."  Who knows what she's hearing?  Probably: pull mommy's hair! 

Let's move on to dinner time.  Eating out at a sit down restaurant is going to have to be retired for the time being.  Avery wants to throw her cup, throw her toys, throw her food, get out of the chair, pretend to choke because she thinks it's funny (yeah....that really happens).  I understand that she's still a baby, leaning towards being a toddler and that she isn't always going to sit still whenever we're in public or eat all her vegetables.  I'm not naive.  But I definitely don't want to be embarrassed any time Marty and I decide to go eat dinner at Cheddars. 

Then there's playing well with others.  To summarize:  it doesn't happen.  Well, let me specify.  Avery plays well with others at a neutral place (i.e. someone else's house).  When those playmates are on "her turf," don't even think about it.  A while back, there were a couple of Avery's friends over at her Gramma's house.  They played with Avery's toys at Gramma's house....and Avery wanted nothing to do with it.  Harper would play with Avery's kitchen...Avery would run over and play with her kitchen.  Delaney would pick up Avery's play vacuum....Avery suddenly wanted to vacuum.  Lots of growling and yelling took place that day.  How do you teach a child that's Avery's age how to share?  I can tell her that she needs to share her toys, but again...what does that mean to her?  I have been blessed to have an amazing family that watches Avery during the week, thus keeping her out of daycare.  Am I doing Avery a disservice by keeping her out of daycare and keeping her away from the chance to learn how to interact with other kids her age?  What's a mom to do??

Someone told me that this could be the result of lack of sleep.  Well, at 17 months old, Avery is still not consistently sleeping through the night.  We may have a week of sleeping through and then a week of being up every night crying it out.  Then she may sleep through two days and cry the next three.  She's also not getting regular naps.  She may go to my Granny's house and take a three hour nap around 11 one day and then go to my Aunt Pam's and sleep 30 minutes at 12 the next.  Without me being with her every single day, it's almost impossible to regulate her naptime schedule.  Could I just have a grumpy baby because she can't figure out a consistent sleeping pattern??

Now that I've ranted, let me explain.  Avery rarely ever acts this way with anyone else (unless all my babysitters are lying when they tell me "She was perfect today!").  It seems to be just when she's with me.  That makes me feel like crap.  And let me clarify something else:  I know I just talked about everything that Avery is doing to misbehave, but my child is no means a terror.  She's still enjoyable to be around (for the most part), ALWAYS says thank you whenever you hand her an item and is so much fun.  Everything I mentioned above is behavior that happens occasionally.  No, she doesn't throw a fit every time we go to Wal-Mart.  No, she doesn't embarrass me every single time we're at a restaurant.  No, she doesn't throw a temper tantrum every single time she doesn't get what she wants.  But these instances are becoming closer and closer together.  And I want to raise a well-behaved and polite child (for the most part...I understand kids aren't perfect). 

I'm a little worried about this new development in Avery's behavior.  I worry that it's my parenting or disciplining style that's made her that way.  Help??
(I leave you with Avery's best "gimme-what-I-want" pouty face, as given to her Gramma)

Becoming a Proverbs 31 Woman....Step 1

Last week, I made the conscious decision to be the best "Proverbs 31" woman I could be.  I am going to strive to be better in my relationships with my family, provide food, wisdom and love for my husband and daughter and become closer in my walk with Christ through this project.  Before I start this project though, there's something that needs to be done.  Before I can tie on my apron strings or start praising my husband and bring him good, not harm, I have one step I need to take that's pretty crucial.  I first need to work on loving myself. 
I've always struggled with low self-esteem...pretty much my entire life actually.  I've never felt pretty enough, cool enough, fashionable enough, funny enough.  Basically, I just have never felt like I'm good enough.  Because of that, I am constantly comparing myself to everyone around me. 

"Gosh, she's so witty.  Why can't I think of funny things to say like that?" 

"Her child is so well-behaved.  What have I done wrong that Avery isn't perfect like her little girl?" 

"Man.  Her blog has 150 followers.  What am I doing wrong that I can't get that many?" 

And on and on and on the cycle continues.  Instead of thanking my Heavenly Father for giving me friends that are funny or great moms or good bloggers, I envy their life.  I compare them to me and always come up with the conclusion that I fall short.  But who's to say that their life is the standard for how things should be?  Why does my friend with the perfect child embody a perfect mom to me?  So my kid cries when she's hungry and has learned how to stomp her foot when things don't go her way....does that make me a bad mom?  So what if my friend's blog has more followers than mine?  I should be excited for her successes and thankful for the readers I do have.  Instead of always comparing myself to others, I need to be thankful for what I've been given.  Judging myself compared to the people around me is always going to make me feel inadequate.  This quote has now become my life motto.  I'm writing it down and carrying it in my car, pocket, wallet, purse so I can see it wherever I go. 

"Someone will always be prettier.  Someone

will always be smarter.  Someone

will always be younger.

But they will never be you."

How true is this?? She may have better clothes or a more successful blog, but she isn't ME!  She isn't a 5'4" brunette married to Marty, mother of Avery, daughter of Dennis and Lisa.  She can't spout out Disney quotes like it's her personal information and she didn't grow up with the best cousins a girl could ask for.  She doesn't have a small scar on her left hand from a curling iron burn right before her ballet recital.  She isn't the big sister of Dayna and Kristen. She's never had my Granny's fried chicken or watched golf with my Papaw.  She doesn't know what it's like to be rocked by my Meemaw or have memories of my Peepaw.    She isn't me.  I'm me...and I'm the only me there is.  God made me special...and HE loves me.  So what if I don't have her life or her looks or her cooking skills?  I do have a plethora of skills and abilities that God DID bless me with.  While I was brainstorming about this post, I was trying to think of my best features.  Sadly, it took me awhile to come up with more than 5 things that I currently like about myself.  There's something so wrong with that!  How can I ever expect Avery to respect me or Marty to love the unique things about me if I can't be confident and love myself?  How can I ever teach my daughter to have self-respect and self-worth if I don't embody that belief myself?  So, every morning (and hopefully multiple times a day), I'm going to start giving myself praises.  During my lather, rinse, repeat routine, I'm going to name 5 things that I like about myself.  And they can't be the same every day.  Five DIFFERENT things that I like about myself or think that I do well.  Or maybe I'll just repeat the mantra from The Help daily: 

"You is kind.  You is smart.  You is important."



Don't Ever Grow Up....

I have a (somewhat) crazy confession to make.  I don't want my kid to grow up.  Not because I'm not ready for kindergarten or her terrible twos.  Not because I'm  not ready for her getting older or hitting new milestones, but simply because I think I'll miss this version of her that I have right now.  Is that crazy?  I don't want my baby to grow up anymore because I love this Avery that I have with me right now.  The Avery that is full of life and personality.  The Avery that's learning something new every day and loves showing off her new skills.  The Avery that learns a new word and insists on saying it every 5 minutes so you're completely aware that she's learned a new word (word of the week: uh oh!).  My Avery that giggles uncontrollably when I smell her stinky feet and loves trying on mommy's shoes.  I love my Avery that loves her Minnie Mouse doll and needs to lay her head on my shoulder to let me know it's time for a nap.  I love my Avery that's going through a MAJOR Mommy's girl stage.  I love this Avery that is still unsteady when she walks sometimes and is easily amused by the smallest things in life.  This Avery with the chubby feet and the downy soft hair.  I love my Avery that loves to dance to Jake and the Neverland Pirates and becomes mesmerized when the the Small Potatoes comes on Disney Junior.  I'm afraid I'll miss this Avery when she's 2, 3, 5+ years old.  Yes, I know that she'll still be the same person, but what if her personality changes?  What if her sweet, happy-go-lucky demeanor changes and she becomes a completely different person?  Yes, I loved Avery as a newborn, as a 3 month old, as a 6 month old.  But this Avery is so different.  She's so much fun to be around and watch as she learns about the world around her.  If she changed so much from newborn Avery, is she going to be completely different as 5 year old Avery?  Will my love for her be any different?  Or will I constantly be thinking about this Avery that I have right now and how much I miss her?  Does my mom love adult me less than she loved child/infant me?  Is this normal?

Unfriendable.

Does becoming a mom automatically make you un-friendable?  It seems like when I had my sweet Avery, I gained a daughter, but lost all of my really good friends.  If someone were to ask me right now who my best friend was, I would have trouble coming up with an answer.  Actually, before I go any farther, let me clarify.  My husband is, without a doubt, my best friend.  I know that I can tell him anything and he's always the first person I turn to whenever I have something on my mind or have news to share.  Sometimes though, you just need a girl-best friend.  Someone that understands that you HAD to buy that cute pair of shoes or your need to go into an Anthropologie store even though you can't afford anything in there.  Someone to call when you need to complain about your husband (just kidding Marty! sort of....).  Someone who will meet you for lunch once a month just so you have an excuse to put nice clothes on.  I need that person in my life.  And I don't have them. 
I had my college friends.  People that would hang out on a Wednesday night at the drop of a hat and didn't care if I called at 1 am on a Thursday to just talk or make a Taco Bell run.   As college friends tend to do though, they graduated.  I graduated.  We got jobs.  We moved.  We got married.  And, even though I share some of my fondest memories with those people, I can't remember the last time I talked to them.  Other than the occasional "Facebook hello,"  I can't remember the last real conversation I had with them.  I feel like that's part of life though.  You share the college experience and then you grow up. 
Once upon a time, I would have considered my sister my best friend.  I would tell her everything.  And I think she did the same.  We knew that we shared an unspoken sisterly bond.  Until I had a baby.  A baby that would become her niece.  Suddenly, seeing me was less important, unless I was bringing my kid along.  The bond is still there, but it's more my kid's aunt---her niece's mom kind of bond.  The ability to share secrets and stay on the phone spilling my guts isn't really there anymore.  I guess we're at different points in life now.  I used to love hanging out with my cousins.  We're all close in age and we would spend a lot of time hanging out, giggling and bonding.  Now, I feel like the old maid that's left out of the loop.  Browse any of their tweets on a weekend and you'll see inside jokes and plans for parties and get-togethers.  It just makes me feel.....old.  Outdated.  Friend-less.  I understand that I'm not the same person I was pre-baby.  I can't take off on a Wednesday night to hang out or go watch a movie on a weekend with all of them without making plans for a babysitter and trying to get home in time for the bath-bottle-bedtime routine...but sometimes it's nice to pretend that I'm still that person. 
I have my mommy friends.  The girls whose daughters are around Avery's age and we have the occasional play date.  I love spending time with these girls.  I know that I can show up with baby food in my hair or be late because I had a poop explosion situation on my hands and they just get it.  We can talk about epidurals for hours or the things we're going to do differently on our next babies.  But we haven't gotten past that "mommy friend" point.  We have a great time at the play date, but that's really where the friendships end, with the exception of one or two of the girls.
Right now, I would probably consider my mom my best friend.  We have more things in common than we ever have before and I know that I can talk to her for hours about whatever was on my mind.  She understands my need to have a good cry about Avery's sleep issues and gives me advice on how she would start to wean Avery off her bottles.  But (and if you're reading this mom, PLEASE don't take this the wrong way) there are things you can't talk to your mom about.  Sometimes, you just need a best friend.  I realize that it's not an easy thing to do.  It's not like I can just take an ad out in the paper:  Wanted.  Best friend for a 20-something mommy.  Must understand if lunch dates are cancelled due to teething, but also must be prepared for a 3 am ranting phone call when her daughter is up for the fourth time.  Needs to be a frequent window shopping buddy that supports her shoe habit.  Unpaid position. 
Is it something I've done?  Have I put myself in this mommy zone and made myself unfriendable?  Have I subconsciously distanced myself from everyone I was close to and only have myself to blame?  Or is it just part of life?  Meet the guy, get married, have the baby, lose all friends?  Am I the only one??

Blog posts...written by God?

Do you ever hear God talking and you just ignore it, blaming it on concidence or your own thoughts leading you to a conclusion that you're looking for?  Not so, my friend.  God speaks, it's your choice whether or not you want to stop trying to control everything and listen to Him.  Unfortunately, for too long I've tried to do everything myself.  Avery doesn't sleep--I read parenting books for solutions, listen to the advice of other moms, let her cry it out, give her cereal before bed, let her sleep on the couch with her daddy, read some more parenting books.  My house is a wreck--I get mad, I blame it on Marty, I make excuses and that I'm too exhausted from working my daytime job and dealing with Avery, I complain that I shouldn't be the only one to handle all the homemaking.  Things happen that are out of my control--I ask "Why me?,"  I panic, I plan, I over-think and over-analyze.   Not once is my first reaction to stop and pray.  To ask God to ease my burden and help me through my problem.  I'm not embarassed to tell you this because I'm finally admitting that I'm not a Supermommy.  No matter how hard I try, I cannot control everything in my life and make things completely perfect.  I have a Father for that.  A Father who has cared for and loved me from the very moment I was stitched in my mother's womb.  He "knew the plans He had for me" and what was in store for my life.  So, why on earth do I think that I can handle my life  better than He who created all things??  Here lately, I've been feeling so overwhelmed.  Like there's too much going on in my life and, instead of trying to make things positive and look at the brighter side and hope for the best, I want to give it all up.  I want to quit and complain that life is too hard and I shouldn't be expected to handle all that's coming our way.  Do you think it was easy for Jesus to come to earth and die for you?  To be nailed to a cross just so you and I can have eternal life?  So who am I to complain about my 10 month old's lack of sleep or my piles of laundry?  God has been talking to me a lot lately, and I've been ignoring Him.  Whether it's through my Sunday school lesson or an email from my SIL, He's been there.  Like a little child, I've stuck my fingers in my ears and turned away.  Until today.  I found a new blog called Aunt Ruthie's Sugar Pie Farmhouse, which posts about making your home into a Southern farmhouse and being a homemaker.  You wouldn't think that would be the place that God would choose to talk to me...but He did.  I came across this post about finding the motivation to do things that we deem as being "too hard" or not taking care of our homes because we "don't feel like it."  Lord knows I'm all too guilty of that.  I think that I can justify those 6 loads of dirty laundry sitting in the floor because I've had a long day or I have to cook dinner.  The entire post got my attention.  "Be the mama you want to be (even when you don't feel like it)" and "Tending to the hearth and home is a gift of LOVE" were all screaming out like they were written especially for me.  It was a wake-up call to my current attitude.  Unfortunately, the temperature in my house lately has been on too hot, with me being irrational and angry.  Don't I want to create a warm and cozy environment for my family to live in?  It was like God was talking right to me.  He was telling me "Listen.  I'm talking to you.  I've given you a husband, a child, a home.  I've blessed you by making you a wife and a mother.  There are duties that go with these cherished titles.  Do them and be happy while you're at it.  And above all my child, stop complaining."  Nothing like your Heavenly Creator telling you to suck it up and stop whining about things.  I've been terrible to be around lately because I've been so focused on the things that weren't going the way I wanted them to...when all along, they've been going the way He wants.  I heard a quote in our last Sunday school lesson that seems pretty appropriate: "If everyone were to throw their problems out into the middle of the room for all to see, you'd be quick to grab your own problems back."  Im going to stop my complaining and face situations head-on....by getting on my knees and praying about them first.  And to cherish the jobs that the Lord has given me.  Not everyone gets to experience the blessing of marriage or the wonder of motherhood.  I need to cherish the moments that I'm given and treat them with love and joy.  Message received Lord.

No pictures, please.

When do I start feeling good about myself again?  When do I stop looking at pictures and thinking "My gosh.  I am a fat, pasty white cow."?  I have struggled with low self-esteem my entire life. I'm constantly worried about looking stupid or if my chin is too big or if people like me.  I've never had much confidence in myself.  But nothing compares to how I feel now...ten pounds heavier than I should be and carrying the battle scars of pregnancy.  Don't get me wrong, having my sweet Avery is more than worth the extra weight I'm carrying or a couple of stretch marks.  I'm not asking for a flat tummy or killer boobs.  I just want to feel good about myself.  I don't want to dread taking pictures with my family because I'm worried about how I'll look in them.  Something is wrong when I look at a family photo and, instead of focusing on my adorable daughter or my smoking hot husband,  all I can see is my double chin and how my clothes cling to my stomach.  When does it end?  When do I start feeling on the outside like I do on the inside? Motherhood is the most amazing, most empowering thing I've ever done in my life.  I've never felt more beautiful as a woman than I do when I'm caring for my little girl.  So when does that start to show on the outside too?  I guess I've done it to myself.  I have zero motivation to workout after being at work and going through my daily routine.  I know I don't always eat as healthy as I should.  I guess instead of complaining, I should be jumping on the treadmill or doing laps in my parent's pool.  If I want to look good, I have to work for it...and it won't come easy.  But until I get that "hot body," I would just like to feel good about myself in the meantime.

Things you never know about being a mommy....until you are one

I am so excited about my very first Mother's Day. It's like an exclusive club that I'm finally apart of. So, to celebrate, I thought I'd make a list of the "10 things you never know until you're a mommy."

1. No matter how many books you read or old wives tales you listen to, absolutely NOTHING prepares you for this job.
I read the baby books. I listened to the words of seasoned mothers who had gone behind the battle lines and lived to tell about it. I thought I knew what to expect. I thought I was prepared for Avery to show up. I was wrong. Nothing can prepare you. No book you read or advice you follow can prepare you for your baby's arrival. Every baby is different and everything they do isn't going to be written down in the pages of a parenting book. Who would have ever dreamt that my child would be 9 months old and have an aversion to sleep? Who would have thought that I would be willing to watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse multiple times on repeat because it makes my girl happy? Put the book back on the shelf and follow your instinct. Its usually more on target than any book anyway.

2. As soon as your baby arrives, time suddenly moves in warp speed.
I used to laugh at people when they said that "time flies" or "it seemed like yesterday." When I was pregnant, 40 weeks took FOREVER. I didn't think Avery would ever arrive. Then she did. And it seems like every time I turn around, she's grown. Or she's learned something new. Or she's losing some of her "baby-ness." My child is going to be a year old in two and half months. TWO MONTHS. How did this happen? I literally felt like it was just yesterday that I was standing in my bedroom, folding clothes in between contractions. I felt like I was going through 19 hours of labor just the other day. I feel like it hasn't been that long ago since we brought Avery home and adjusted to life as a family of three. Now she's talking, teething and trying to walk. And I'm left wondering where the time has gone. Time FLIES.

3. Non-baby related conversations will be hard for you to do.
As much as I love my non-parent friends, I feel like I have little in common with them anymore. I scroll through Facebook updates of college parties, vacations and spontaneous decisions. And, although I remember what that was like, I have little interest in talking about those things. If you don't mind listening to me while I talk about the benefits of orajel and teething rings, then we'll have a beautiful friendship. If you want to carry on a normal, adult conversation about things that don't relate to my 9 month old, you're out of luck.

4. You'll never sleep again.
I never, ever, EVER dreamt that my girl would be a terrible sleeper. Pre-baby, I expected to stay up with a newborn. But I thought that eventually I would get more sleep as my baby got older. Reality is much different. Sleep techniques that don't work, a baby that never sleeps through the night and late night naps on the couch or bottles to get her to go back to sleep are the norm in this household. Maybe when Avery is a teenager (although I'm sure even then, I'll be awake...waiting for her to get in for curfew), I'll finally sleep again. Until then, caffeine is my best friend.

5. Eating words will be a regular occurrence.
Before I was ever a mother, I thought I knew how to be one. I thought I knew how to discipline a child and uttered the phrase "My child will never do that" multiple times. I swore my children would never sleep in my bed. I wanted to make my children's clothes and provide homemade baby food. Yeah. Right. Avery gets her way more often than not by just whining a little and giving me an adorably sad face. Avery sleeps in my bed whenever I've reached the end of my rope at 3 am. And who has time to make baby clothes and food?? Eating crow is part of my normal diet these days.

6. There will be times you want a break from motherhood.
I've learned that this is okay. I LOVE Avery. I love being Avery's mom. I love having a little mini-me that relies on my care and love every day. But I'm not a superhero. I need a break sometimes. Even if that means taking a walk around my neighborhood or a long bubble bath. Being a mom is a full time job. Even in the best full time job, you need a day off to recharge and get yourself ready for the next day. Don't feel guilty.

7. You worry constantly.
I was a worrier before. If it could be worried about, I would. I didn't think it was possible for it to get any worse....but it did. I worry about Avery all.the.time. Will she be allergic to the food I give her? Will table food choke her? Is she breathing? Cold? Sick? Happy? I doubt this will ever end. How my mom has lived through 26 years of worrying is beyond me.

8. You will never be perfect.
During my pregnancy, I expected to be a supermommy. Do it all, cook it all, clean it all.....and reality couldn't be farther from the truth. If you're a faithful follower of this blog, you know how my life is. All the expectations I had for mommyhood have all gone out the window. We put so much pressure and expectations on ourselves. Especially in this day and age of crafty, blogging mommies that seem to do it all. I read these blogs and feel terrible about myself that I can't do it all like those moms can. I have to give myself a reality check. Yes, that blogger mom may have pictures of a homemade apple pie on her blog and talk about her home improvement plans and her new dress she just sewed, but you don't see the pictures of her house. She could be drowning in laundry--just like me! Stop putting so much pressure on yourself as a mom. You gave birth....and that's about as close to perfect as you can get.

9. Time isn't yours anymore.
Days and nights belong to your child. Schedules revolve around bottle feedings, diaper changes and bedtime. And I'm okay with that. I'm okay with being considered "old people" because Marty and I have to be home before 8 so we can start Avery's bedtime routine. There's no one better that I can think of to change my entire schedule for.

10. It's all worth it.
Motherhood is hard. It's exhausting. It's messy. It takes a huge, irreversible toll on your body. You'll talk about "Brown Bear, Brown Bear" and what color poop is normal for a formula fed baby in daily conversation. You won't be fashionable, you'll put all your nice clothes and dangly earrings away to wear again when your child is older. You'll be covered in spit-up constantly and change multiple dirty diapers on a daily basis. And none of it matters. Because loving someone unconditionally and having them love you back is sooooo worth any of the other yucky stuff.Having Avery come into our lives and change the way I view the world is the greatest blessing I've ever received. I used to think that I was put on this earth to hold some certain job....a career in agriculture or event planning. And that life would be complete when I found it. Well, I have. That job is being Avery's mom. So, whether it's your first or your 50th, Happy Mother's Day. Because we really do have the greatest job in the world.

Nine months and finally getting the hang of it.

9 months.  That's how long it took Avery to fully grow and develop inside my belly before it was safe for her to come out and join her mommy, daddy and world full of people that love her.  And that's exactly how long it's taken me to adjust to life with her.  Don't get me wrong, I accepted the fact that I'm responsible for another human being the second they laid her on my chest, but after 9 months, I have finally gotten to the point that I can not only live with a baby, but can actually function while doing so.  We've found our "groove."  I know what works with her, for the most part, and I've figured out what I can accomplish on days we're together.  I know that in the mornings, she's pretty clingy and fussy and I won't be able to get much done until she's woken up from her morning nap.  I know when she should take naps (10 and 2).  I know how long those naps should approximately be (an hour and a half to two).  I know which toys are her favorite (Violet the talking puppy and Minnie Mouse).  I know how she acts when she gets sleepy (randomly laying down and patting the floor) and what I should do when she starts getting sleepy (find a pacifier and turn on Mickey Mouse Clubhouse).  I know when I can start to do laundry while she's sleeping (after 20 minutes, she's really asleep and is oblivious to noise).  I know what to do if she's uncontrollably screaming (turn on Elvis).  This feels good.  In November, I was feeling like I would NEVER get to this point.  I was drowning.  My house was disgusting, my kid wasn't on a sleeping schedule and never, ever slept and I felt so out of control.  That seems like so long ago.  No, my house isn't spotless, but I do keep it picked up.  I do several loads of laundry during the week and catch up on the weekends.  I put things away after I use them.  I pick up Avery's toys at the end of the night.  Lately, I've begun to focus on the design of my house again.  I rearranged my living room furniture, switched out tables and lamps and have several home projects on the horizon.  No, my baby still doesn't sleep, but we're working on it.  After trying almost everything else, we're going with something new.  Avery's sleeplessness and waking up around 12:30 am every morning was making Marty and I both exhausted....and was making me crazy.  Somehow, we discovered that Avery slept really great with Marty on the couch.  So for awhile, we did that.  She started out in her crib every night and when she woke between 12:30 and 2, she'd go to sleep in the living.  It wasn't ideal, but it was working....and more importantly, everyone was sleeping.  Recently, she started getting really restless at night and she and Marty weren't getting a good night's sleep.  So we've started a 4 step process.  First stage, go in to her when she wakes and is crying, pick her up and rock her until she's settled and sleepy and then lay her back in bed while she's still awake.  If she cries, repeat the process.  Do this for several nights until Avery "gets used to it."  Second stage, go to her when she wakes and don't pick her up.  Just talk to her, pat her, rub her back, but don't pick her up.  Third stage, go to her and talk to her by using calming words, but don't touch her or pick her up.  Fourth stage, go to her and talk to her from the doorway, but don't go in the room to her.  After 4 nights, it seems to be working.  Last night, she slept from 9 to 5.  EIGHT HOURS.   Completely unheard of in the Gaddie household.  I don't want to talk much more about it because I'm afraid I'll jinx it.  Just cross your fingers that it wasn't a fluke. Since we're getting on a regular schedule, I'm feeling more crafty again and I have SEVERAL things planned as far as house projects go.  I hope to start a new series on this blog, along with the the supper club.  Stay tuned. :)
I'm doing something different for this week's menu.  Instead of going out and buying ingredients, I'm utilizing different things that are in my pantry.  Seems stupid to buy all new food when I have a semi-stocked pantry full of food that needs to be used.  This week's Super Messy Supper Club menu:
Monday:  Lasagna roll ups (due to unforseen circumstances last week, this was never made).
Tuesday:  Shake and bake chicken, green beans and biscuits.
Wednesday: Beef with broccoli
Thursday: Spaghetti and meatballs
Friday:  BBQ chicken sandwich (chicken breasts in the crock-pot, bbq sauce, low for 6 hours)
Saturday:  Derby party!  I need to find a good side dish or appetizer recipe to take to the host.  Suggestions?

Here's to looking forward to getting the hang of this mommy business as Avery gets older!