Attacking windmills...

It is hard being a parent. 

No matter what the family make up is, it is hard.  The pressures that we set on ourselves is so much more than what any society or child can put on us.  It is us, the person that sets our daily path, that either sets us up for success or some lofty ideal that we surely cannot attain (even if we try like crazy to chase those windmills).

I build mountains, I see dragons where there are kittens and when I see my kids sad and I see red, a brilliant, hot, blinding red.  I don't set out to be this way but it happens.  Something gets ain the path of what one of my kids wants and means something to them and I am out the door and ready to take on the world.  Sadly, I'm a bit more like Don Quixote some days...never quite reaching my goals or righting some wrongs.  But damnit, I'm going to try!

Beware the Ides of March...

"Beware the Ides of March," sound advice if you are Julius Caesar.  In my world, the Ides have come early and mean different things...although, I will be on the look out for those with daggers (just in case).

My Ides: my daughter has turned 13 this day.  I know, I know....The Cupcake Mommy is far too young and glamorous to be a parent to a teenager.  Yes, yes that of course is all true.  It is a modern marvel that I am so young while my children continue to age.  I credit that to the halting of my birthdays at the age of 29 and a good moisturizer.  I'm pretty sure that there is a math formula that gives X a value, carries numbers over, has integers, cotangents and medians that can explain this miracle but damn it I'm young I tell ya....YOUNG!

So my husband and I have finally welcomed a teenager into our lives.  This means that I will be able to officially attribute all that drives us crazy as parents to the phenomenon known as the American teenager.  The wacky, fluctuating drama of a teenager!  I now get to say I have one in my household and for that I know I will be forever changed.

They really should have told us during the 9 months of pregnancy or during 20+ hours of labor what was in store for us.  There was ample time and as a first-time parent I was ready and eager to heed any and all advice bestowed upon us.  I'm thinking that while I was prone and getting my epidural (happy-maker) that someone could have mentioned that these cute, pink, mewing, screaming little babies turn into teenagers full of angst and wild abandon to all things parental.  I was there, unable to move.  I was unable to feel anything from the waist down.  I was yours!  I was yours to convey all this to.  They gave me an ashen colored and muck covered wailing ball of life.  They don't come to you all pink and smelling sweet but they give you this colorful mush of baby and ick and you know in an instant that it was all worth it and that you would be forever in love with them as you kiss their slimy little foreheads and cheeks.  They gave us something far more amazing than those Gerber-like babies that are falsely angelic and pristine...they gave us our future teenager.  A sassy, smart, beautiful and kind kid that will forever hold my heart even when she won't hold my hand.

I love you Haley.

One more thing....

Go clean your room.

To view my full blog go to: http://karen-thecupcakemommy.blogspot.com/

FWD: FWD: FWD: FWD: FWD:

Ever get those forwarded emails or see those posts that seem to take on a life of their own on Facebook?  Of course you have.  I have yet to find a suitable filter that magically makes my 3rd cousin stop sending me some money wish or angel-gram that I must hurry and send to 10 of my friends.  Oh, and by the way, Mr. Bill Gates, I'm still waiting for that free computer that we were promised if we forwarded that test message you were tracking.  Man, there are a lot of those things out there.

Recently, I saw a post on Facebook that I decided to repost (yes, because I agreed) about being a Mommy.  I changed it to "parent" as I thought the Daddy population needed some love too.  This is what it said:

Do I work? YES! 24 hours a day. Why? Because I'm a MOM. I'm a parent, a cook, a cleaner, a teacher, a referee, a nanny, a nurse, a handyman, a maid, a security officer, a dentist, a secretary, a negotiator, a chauffeur & a hairdresser. I don't get holidays, sick pay, or days OFF. I work day & night. I'm on call at all hours. Now tell me my job isn't a real one! Re-post if you are blessed enough to be a MOM...

As a stay-at-home mother I often find myself feeling a little bit like I'm not as hard working as some others.  I am.  I just get to do it in PJ's if I want.  Whether we work 9-5, the swing shift or we don't get paid for what we do we are all working for one goal.  We are raising adults.  I heard that the other day too.  We aren't raising children but we are raising adults.  I thought for a minute.  Of course.  When you think about it we aren't looking to create a perpetual preschooler or a forever fifteen year old (I know I cringed at that thought) we are raising the next generation.  While some of us leave the home to make an income to help provide the needs and stability for our future adults; others of us are home making sure the toilet isn't super gross for guests or that there is always a supply of fresh socks.  Mind you, the working parent is doing it all.  They bring home the bacon and fry it in the pan....they also have to make sure the toilets aren't super gross too.

There are so many of us out there.  We have our differences but our biggest similarities are universal.  We wear a lot of different hats, accomplish a workload befit several people and we want the best for those little buggers that mess up our toilets.  We are parents and we don't punch a time card!

My badge of honor....

Yesterday, I was sitting here and I looked down and saw it.  It was my visitor's badge from the elementary school where two of my children attend school.  A visible sign that I was there.  It is like a beacon to all to say I did something special today with my children at the heart of it.

I'm a stay-at-home mom so I guess there is always that feeling that I don't do what others do.  I don't leave the house for the 9-5 fast paced life like I used to.  I recall being considered a professional person.  I could package a loan for the secondary market in minutes years ago but now I don't think that I could accurately calculate a loan to debt ratio anymore.  And to go out just to go out....oh, I vaguely remember that.  Now, a hot night for me consists of staying up till 11pm and my fuzzy pj's of the day.  Last night I sported Thumber a la Bambi fame.

It is rare when I do something without my kids in the forefront in some way.  I certainly do all the less than glamorous things with them in mind....scrubbing toilets (mostly because they must dance while urinating--I think you get what I mean there), making meals, doing laundry (always endless laundry), whatever other domestic greatness I am mastering on any given day and of course my volunteer work.

I guess what I do is important but sometimes it is just nice to have others see what I do and not feel like I'm "just" a stay-at-home mom.  I'm glad that I was able to wear my visitor's badge....my badge of honor for all to see.