A Waffle House Christmas

Goodbyes suck, but saying goodbye on Christmas really really sucks. This is the third year I've had to kiss my kids goodbye on Christmas and I'm beginning to wonder if it will ever feel anything less than shitty. Sorry for the language but this is me being 100% real.

Last year I cried from 8pm Christmas eve until 2pm Christmas Day when my girls arrived on my doorstep. I was an emotional TRAIN WRECK. Looking back I feel kind of guilty for being such a Debbie Downer. Thankfully I was with people who loved me (sobbing tears and all), but still, I can only imagine sharing what should have been a celebrated morning with a crying lunatic of a woman (yes, that would be me.)

This year I was excited to have the girls for Christmas Eve and the whole morning with Santa shenanigans. Of course they wanted to talk to their daddy last night and I could tell by his voice he was sad and missing them. I don't care how long you've been separated, divorced, whatever...the pain of missing your kids doesn't really go away. Or maybe it does, and I just haven't reached that point yet.

Santa arrived with a ridiculous amount of toys, breakfast consisted of bacon, carbs and cookies, and everyone was happy. The family room resembled an American Girl war zone and while I did my best to clean up as they were ripping open presents, I decided to let it go. My phone was buzzing with text messages, Facebook notifications, and voice mails from family and friends. I ignored all of them because the clock was ticking. I knew I had a limited amount of time with my girls before it was time to say goodbye. Nothing was more important than cherishing this Christmas morning.

Even though they were exhausted, whining and practically killing each other by the time their daddy came to pick them up, I didn't want to let them go. The dark cloud of loneliness was hovering over my head and I just wanted an umbrella to shield my heart. The doorbell rang and I took a deep breath. "Holiday, you need a break...this isn't the end of the world" I repeated to myself. But no avail. The lump crawled into my throat and I choked back tears. As I buckled their car seats and kissed them goodbye I made the walk of shame with my head held low (faaaaarrr different from the collegiate one).

Here comes the shitty part. I walked into the family room, sat down on my couch, and cried (it was the ugly kind). Piles of toys were painful reminders of what was ultimately over. My family Christmas. In what seemed like a flash, the morning was over and my girls were gone.

If you know me personally you're well aware of my flair for the dramatic. Just last week my mom and I watched The Holiday and she giggled as Kate Winslet sobbed inconsolably over her kitchen sink. "Holiday, she reminds me of you!" Thanks Mom...I guess? If you've seen the movie you know the scene...and that was kind of me this morning.

Thankfully this is third time I've experienced this so there were a few things in my favor: 1) I knew it was coming 2) I knew any attempt to fight or deny myself the pity party would be a failure and ultimately postpone the inevitable and 3) I knew I had to get out of my house.

As the leading lady of my own life, I'm happy to announce there is, indeed, a love interest. He invited me to join him (and his children) for Christmas dinner, and I was happy to accept the invitation. Besides the fact that I absolutely love hanging out with them, it was nice to know I had somewhere to go tonight (if you're going through this process always always always plan ahead for times like this so you aren't alone). I was welcomed with big hugs, kisses, and presents.

And then we went to the Waffle House.

Yes. We went to the Waffle House for Christmas. Although it wouldn't have been my dinner location of choice, I quickly realized this was their sacred family tradition. Because, he, too, understands the pain and silence of an empty house, and, well, the Waffle House is pretty much the only restaurant open on Christmas day. Surrounded again by bacon and carbs, I embraced their tradition and ordered a Coke. A real one.

Even though I knew the evening would end with me returning to an empty, quiet house, my heart was full and the lump in my throat was gone. Maybe it was the bacon. Maybe it was something more. Whatever it is I realize Christmas isn't what it used to be anymore...and as sad as that can be I'm also learning time can heal most wounds. The pain of saying goodbye might never go away, but hopefully the empty house part will.

As I sit here solo, enjoying a glass of wine and Skittles, I can only imagine what 2014 has in store for me.

Full tummy, full heart

Thanksgiving rocks. Yummy food, family, friends, football, and the possibility of an afternoon nap are all reasons this just might be my favorite holiday of the year. Oh, and let's not forget the 30 days of Facebook postings from people publicly sharing what they're thankful for....

This time of year is filled with nostalgia. Whether it's the smell of turkey and stuffing (dressing, as they call it in the south), or the twinkle of Christmas lights on the tree, memories are everywhere. Do you ever think back to the year before, and remember where you were, who you were with, and what you were doing? For some reason the holidays trigger memories for me like this...am I the only one?

Last year on Thanksgiving my dad came to visit and we spent the weekend playing, talking and just enjoying each others' company. The year before that was the first Thanksgiving I spent without my girls (they were with my ex), and instead of crying all day I hopped on a plane and surprised my family in Florida. This year I journeyed out to the "Country" and was surrounded with love by an incredible family who welcomed me with open arms. I even got my hands on a shotgun.

My life has been full of blessings, and I am truly thankful. It isn't always easy, especially when I don't get to share these special holidays with my children, but I do my best to be thankful in all circumstances. One of my favorite scriptures is 1 Thessalonians 5:18:, Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

With a full heart (and a full tummy) I give thanks :)

{disclaimer: no animals were harmed during the holiday shotgun show}

Me vs. the Rainbow Loom

It's amazing what a little peer pressure can do. Thankfully I have a first grader who is teaching me how to be cool all over again. First it was the need for a certain pair of shoes. Then it was pigtail braids "like Maddie" (easily solved after a quick text to her mom with detailed description and instructions). Next it was the Rainbow Loom. I should have known it was only going to get worse.

When Elizabeth came home begging for this particular item I had absolutely no clue what she was talking about. The only thing I could really make out of her babbling conversation was friendship bracelets...okay, I thought to myself...I get it. If the Rainbow Loom is what we need, then the Rainbow Loom is what we'll get. After all, you won't receive friendship bracelets unless you give friendship bracelets. Nostalgia kicked in as I remembered the days of summer camp, friendship bracelets and my desire to be cool.

The next day I went to Michael's on a mission. I was going to buy this Rainbow Loom and all of the necessary accessories for my daughter to make the coolest friendship bracelets ever. The minute I saw the giant display I realized this must be the cool thing. I could tell by the herd of mommies sorting through the shelves, chit chatting about rubber band colors, different styles, etc.

I had no clue what I needed to buy to make this bracelet thing happen, so I asked the salesperson for a translation. Here's what I got:

Her: The Rainbow Loom is a tool used to make bracelets from small rubber bands.

Me: Ohhhhhh, okay. I get it. So we loop these rubber bands on this loom thing and magically it all connects into a bracelet?

Her: Yes ma'am. But you may want to watch the YouTube tutorials...the instructions in the box aren't very good.

Me: YouTube? Really?

Her: Yes, really. The directions are awful and you'll never figure it out. Watch the tutorials on YouTube.

OKAY. At this point I should have known I was in over my head. Little did I know I was up s*#@'s creek without a paddle.

Elizabeth was excited to get started, so we got on YouTube. If you're a mom, chances are you know exactly what I'm about to say. The tutorial is basically some bootleg video with cute asian (I think?) kids, teaching us (clearly the ADULTS) how to make the "basic" bracelet.

I'm not too proud to say it- I had to pause, rewind, and restart the video several times. Of course by now Elizabeth has lost interest and relocated to the television while I slaved away like a kid in a sweat shop.

Fast forward 5 days...

I made far too many friendship bracelets than I care to admit, Elizabeth still didn't have a clue, and there were rubber bands EVERYWHERE. Even my vacuum agreed. The Rainbow Loom had to GO.

It's been tucked away nicely, somewhere really really high, where little fingers can't reach and where rubber bands can't escape. Surprisingly enough no one has missed it.

Afternoon quickie

Every now and then you just need one. All it takes is fifteen, twenty, or, if you're lucky, thirty minutes in bed and wham, bam, thank you ma'am...it's a whole new me.

Get your heads out of the gutter, people. I'm not talking about that kind of quickie (although...never mind...I'm not gonna go there...) I'm talking about a good old fashioned power nap.

Isn't it amazing how a short little snooze can totally re-energize you? The other day I was working at my desk when the cement eyelids kicked in. You know the feeling, like when you're sitting in church and your head starts bobbing back and forth...and suddenly your entire body twitches and wakes you up...yeah, that was me. Rather than fight the inevitable snooze, I surrendered. A flash of guilt crossed my mind, but I got over it.

Thirty minutes later I was back at my desk, knocking out the to do list like it was my job (ummm, yeah I guess it kinda is). I was much more productive post nap than I would have been fighting cement eyelids/bobbing head syndrome for an hour.

So today, my friends, I challenge you to embrace your inner toddler and go for the power nap. You'll wake up refreshed, energized, and ready to tackle the rest of the day. If only our businesses were modeled after preschools, life might be much easier.

P.S. Welcome to my new and improved blog...take a look around and check back often...I'll be dishing on all sorts of fun stuff these next few months :)

life lessons from the itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka dot bikinis

My girls are the sunshine of my life, and this picture perfectly captures the essence of our family dynamic. As sisters, they want to be just alike, but what amazes me is how different they really are. Here you can see the little one, chasing after her hero...longing to be just like her sissy...complete with ponytail and yellow bikini.

What I love most about this is their ability to let go and be free...even in teenie weenie bikinis. When I think back to my childhood days some of my fondest memories involve building sandcastles and playing with my sister. As a mother it has come full circle, especially as I watch my girls grow, learn, admire, and most of all, love each other.

Children learn many lessons from their parents, but sometimes we miss the lessons they are teaching us. Today I embrace the lesson of being carefree, taking time to play in the sand, and admiring my little sister.

usernames, passwords, failed logins, oh my!

It's been over a year since my last blog post, and while I've had several life changes I can't blame my MIA status on anything other than a simple 7 digit code....yes folks, that would be my password.

Seeing how everything these days requires a log in, username, and password, it's nearly impossible to keep everything straight. Security measures encourage you to change them regularly, but holy cow, my brain can only keep track of so much. I think I even managed to stump Google a few times with multiple failed attempts and password resets.

Now that I've successfully hacked into my own blog I'm excited to announce my return to the blogosphere. Yippee! (Don't freak out, I am not a hacker. I owe my blog return to the tiny hot pink post it note stuck to the bottom of my desk drawer...complete with my login info. Phew!)

While I would like to avoid a cheesy paragraph, I feel it necessary to send a shout out of thanks to everyone who read my blog consistently, and most of all for your support and encouragement over the past year. Your kind and loving words, comments, emails, {and hugs} have not gone unnoticed. Please know they helped me smile when all I wanted to do was cry.

Enough of that. Let's get to the good stuff. Life is good. No regrets.

The Holiday blog is back : )