Daughter

I've had somewhat of an epiphany today. Nothing spectacular, but for me, it was eye-opening and hopefully, life changing.

I absolutely adore my daughter. The love that I feel for her is immeasurable.  I know her worth, and how precious she is. So why, for so long, have I been talking so badly about this little girl? It hurts my heart to even see that sentence written, but it is true.

Typically, when I talk about Ari with friends or family, I make it a point to mention how worried I am about her when she gets older. How she'll "give me a run for my money", or how much of a diva, or firecracker she is. How much harder she is than her brother was at her age. Why do I focus on picking out these negative traits? Why do I vocalize those fears or frustrations?

I realize venting is important, to a degree, and more or less, that is what I'm doing. However, I legitimately have fear of having a wild, sassy, disrespectful teen-aged daughter some day. That folks, is what I call, future tripping.

My epiphany was this: the more negative energy I send out, and the more I entertain my fears, the more likely those things will become my reality. Celebrating my daughter's wonderful qualities, and choosing to focus on all the greatness that comes along with my beautiful girl, is what is important.

She is strong-willed, determined, bright, spunky, hilarious, tender, gorgeous and perfect, just the way she is. I would not change one thing about her. She is a gift to me, and everyday I find myself staring at her while she roams the house, dancing, twirling, reading, or kissing her favorite stuffed animal of the moment, and all I feel is gratitude and love.

 

Busy is the new Lazy

What really qualifies as being "busy"? If I am watching Pretty Little Liars, and my 6 yr old needs to show me something, does "hold on, I'm busy." , really mean that I am legitimately, busy?

I think the line between laziness and being busy can become blurred. At least for me, as a mom, it seems to get that way.

I can say in all honesty, that I am not one who would be considered a "lazy mom", but OF COURSE I have my moments, days, weeks, or whatever, where I know I am not reaching my potential as a mom, let alone a woman.

That's why I find myself cringing when I yell out "hold on, I'm busy, I'll be there in a minute". Because, I am not busy. If I were being honest with my hubby or son, I'd really be like, "uggghh, hold ON, I'm busy being
lazy." But that doesn't necessarily fill anyone in my home with any sort of warm and fuzzy feeling.

What does being lazy accomplish? For me, it really accomplishes feeling  guilt, regret and quite frankly, kinda fat sometimes. When I become lazy, I stop going to bed at a decent hour. I don't clean my kitchen at night. I don't go running in the early morning (or at all). I bitch and moan about cooking dinner, and I justify eating damn, Del Taco. My kids (family) eat less fruits and veggies, and more Pringles and Oreos.
It really all begins with me. Getting lazy.

I am not here to beat myself up on a public level, or even to say that I, or any other mom should never take a day to do nothing.
What I am saying is, for me, Crystal, when I become content with doing the bare minimum (keep my kids alive), it always has a deeper meaning. It's not usually because I am recovering from anything physically draining, but because I am avoiding hard things.

When I avoid doing the hard thing, I keep myself in this continual state of self-doubt, where I hold back on who I am and who I really want to become. It turns into an ugly cycle of negative self talk resulting in months of missed opportunities.
Gosh, this kind of sounds like depression, which I have experienced, and it is a very real thing. However, as much as I would LOVE to use a mental illness as my scapegoat today, I will choose to be real and call it what it is. Laziness. Mixed with fear of failure.

The whole point of all this comes down to this blog post. For months, and I mean like, almost a year, I have had this overwhelming feeling that I needed to start my blog. But because I am so good at talking myself out of new things, I put it off.
Month after month, I would be "busy" on Instagram, following links to other blogs, feeling this weird combination of jealousy and excitement, as I scanned through posts and photos. My head would constantly be saying "this is what you want, but you can't do this because x.y.z....but this could be you! There is no reason why it can't.". See how messed up the voices in my head are? They have like this love/hate thing going on.
Anyway, here I am, breaking out of my lazy cycle for the day, posting on my blog, because damn it, I am showing my subconscious mind, that I can write a blog. And that I can do it more than twice a year, because there are a couple of folks out there, who actually care and need to hear from me.

And maybe they also need to know that even though I look like this at almost 5 pm,

I am still chasing dreams, following through, proving myself wrong, and even wearing make-up (no bra, though) while doing it!!

So, who freaking cares if I or you, were lazy-ish or super-mega lazy today. The beauty of this life we live, is we can restart our day or try again tomorrow, with a fresh start. Don't let today ruin your day hopes for tomorrow.  

The Day I Became a Mom (an adoption story)

January 19, 2007.

 I was awoken abruptly at 3am with the worst headache I had ever experienced in my life. I could barely make it down the hallway to my parents bedroom, to ask for help. A few minutes later, I was in the car with my Dad, on my way to the hospital.

 38 weeks pregnant,in pain,single, scared to death..I had anticipated the arrival of my first baby. A boy. I had already decided to name him Landon. Ever since I was 17, I somehow knew in my heart that my first child would be a boy and it was then, that I chose his name.

 Here I was, 25 years old and my dream was about to become my bittersweet reality. I just never envisioned things going down like this.

 While laying in the hospital bed, in and out of sleep from the steady stream of magnesium the doctor had flowing through my veins, I was still unprepared mentally, for what I was about to do. I knew he was coming, eventually. All I could feel was nausea and fear. The fear was consuming. It was all that I could focus on. The doctor on call had diagnosed me with preeclampsia,and he had the nurses inform me that I needed to deliver Landon that day.

 After the first few rounds of pitocin, and no progression with my labor, things weren't looking good. I remember feeling pain, physically. Yet I was numb, emotionally. It had been about 10 hours, and looking back, I know that my overwhelming fear, was keeping my body from doing it's job. The fear of the unknown, combined with the fear of knowing that my life would never be the same.

 The last attempt at induction led to stronger contractions, and sudden bleeding. They had to take him via C-Section right away. That was the only way. It's like my body was holding on to him, as long as possible. My heart, mind and body were working against what nature had intended. I didn't want to let go of this baby. He was still mine inside my womb. I could carry him with me, a while longer. But, it was no longer ideal for him to remain there.

 After the successful surgery, I saw his skinny little body being carried to be cleaned and prepped. I heard his tiny little cries. I cried with him. He personified perfection.

 Landon and I spent 5 heavenly days together. I held him almost constantly, I rarely slept, I cried only a little. The reality wasn't something I was fully comprehending. I had never loved anyone or anything more than I loved this beautiful boy, and it was because of my unconditional love, I knew what needed to be done. I didn't have a doubt....at the time.


The night before the scheduled placement with Landon's adoptive parents, I had a sudden change of heart. Sleep deprived, medicated, and hormonal, I went into my parents bedroom and broke the news to my Dad that I could not go through with it. My father listened to me, he counseled me just a little and then, as almost as my last hope, he offered me a blessing.

The next day came, I was feeling the peace I had longed to feel, as I went to meet with the adoptive family.

It was a beautiful and sacred experience, one that is so special in heart, that I won't share the details.
All I will share is, I knew they were placed in my life by God, to be my son's family. I knew that before I delivered Landon, and even when I placed him in their arms.

7 years later, and I still miss my first born son. Mostly on his birthday, and Mother's Day. I still cry over the "loss" of a child, but like I mentioned earlier, it was bittersweet.

The day I became a Mom, was not the day I became a Mother. Landon has a mother, a loving, funny, kind, smart, thoughtful, wonderful mother. He has an equally amazing Dad and now, 3 siblings. His life is rich and full of love. That was my one hope for him; that he would always be and feel loved. And I know, without a doubt, that I made the best choice for my baby. I wouldn't change a thing.

                                                                                    

Landon, Age 2

To all the women who are mothers, are waiting to be, have been, and who are currently: Motherhood is a truly sacred calling in life. Nothing you will ever do, will compare to the joy or challenges that motherhood brings.

If you are BLESSED enough to be a mother, cherish everyday, even if you can only find a moment or two on those especially hard days. Cherish the hugs, the cuddles, the moments that require a band aid or the special "mommy kiss" that can heal all wounds, the nights of interrupted sleep, and the opportunity you have to look into their eyes each day, and see the love they have for you. Just take the time to truly cherish Motherhood.

                                                                                 

Jack and Ari, '13

Happy Mother's Day to all you beautiful, fearless, tireless, selfless Mother's out there.

Ri Ri

This is Ari. I call her Ri Ri. She's feeling pretty with her busted pearl necklace.

She is a firecracker, even at the tender age of 14 months. Her fav words are: daddy, pree (pretty), doggy, more, wow, cool, dank do (thank you), owl, and bottle. 

When she's not in the middle of one of her epic meltdowns, she enjoys dragging lovey's around, retaliating against her big brother, putting things around her neck, and booking it up the stairs before getting caught. 

Ari keeps me on my toes (and my feet) all day. Literally. I rarely sit down. But it's okay, I appreciate the cardio and the upper body workout I get from carrying her around 60% of the day.

Yes, this one makes me tremble in fear, at the very thought of her teenage years. 

I love her as much as it's possible to love another human. She has my heart.

Hello. My name is Crystal, and I love a good cupcake.

I'll be honest, I have no idea what I'm doing.

I'm a hot mess, who tries pretty hard to pretend that I have the slightest idea has to what I am doing as a wife, mother, blogger, fashionista and foodie. Actually, I know exactly what I'm doing when it comes to the eating. Gosh, I love food. The steady, gradual increase of inches around my waist and thighs are proof that I have a real love affair with eating. I'm not ready to admit that this is an actual problem, though. Who knows, in a year from now, I'll announce that I am a food addict. 

For now, I'm just claiming that I am a foodie(denial?). 

Obviously, I get a bit distracted when eating is the topic, because this blog of mine is not really a "foodie blog". However, like I mentioned at the beginning of the post, I don't really know what direction I'm heading, here. 

I do know this; this blog is just something that I need/want to do at this point in my life. I have a love and passion for being a stay-at-home mom, and trust me, this has not always been the case, and I will absolutely go into more detail on that on my blog. Other passions, have not been easy for me to pinpoint. Like a lot of mom's, I allowed myself to get lost in my daily responsibilities, and forgot all about who I am.  

I also love running (so much), cooking, finding new places to eat with my fam, baking alone or with my mini sous chef, Jack, and fashion. These are all part of my day to life, and I would love nothing more than to share my journey, photos, and experiences with all who choose to follow and who can relate. 

One more defining thing about me, something that has shaped me as a person, mother, daughter, wife and friend, is that I am an addict in recovery. This path in my life has lead me to a self-discovery that I would have never known, had I not been down the devastating road of addiction. I am happy to be sober today. I am happy to know that God is real, and that I have the opportunity to live each day with a clear mind, and be the person who I always wanted to become. 

Grab a cupcake, and Diet Coke(cause, that's how I roll), sit down and enjoy the moment. 

Welcome to my blog.