I sometimes feel that modern mothering can be isolating and constantly defeating. You work full time then you come home and do all the housework, cooking, cleaning (I cant justify a cleaning lady in my budget) pay the bills, spend time with your child (you know that quality time that you need to squeeze in between work and bed), do the bath time routine, do the bedtime routine, and then I'm totally shot. I mean really, my DVR is so full I don't know if I have enough room for this weeks shows. (I'm not knocking stay at home moms. They don't have it easier either. Yes they can cook and clean while caring for the kids but you still have to take care of the kids - so I do believe that it might be easier to get everything in during your day, I don't necessarily think its easier).
Then there is Pinterest which I love, but it shows you how awesome others are and how not awesome you are. Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, where we put the best of the best and never show the reality behind the camera. And at the end of the day your exhausted and you cant understand why you couldn't paper-mâché a ballerina and crochet a mermaid blanket all while meticulously decorating your immaculately clean home...
Sometimes its just too much. So I read momtastic a few times a week. A blog written by real moms with real stories about their life, which usually isn't so perfect. Celebrity moms and moms next door, single moms, married moms, stay at home moms, working moms, they are all covered. Complain about your husband not understanding, the reality of a picky eater, questions for others- Its all there. I really love this blog. I have no association to them, but I wish they wanted me to write for them. Its awesome!
"Common sense is not so common."- Voltaire
Friday, March 3, 2017
Wednesday, March 1, 2017
Party for a Purpose
Over the weekend, my husband, myself, sister, 'to be' brother-in-law and a number of our friends attended a fundraiser for a foundation in memory of our teammate that died of cancer at the age of 21. Kellie was a happy inspiring person, before, during and now after her battle with cancer. She always remembered to be kind and put others first. She really didn't have a mean bone in her body.
Her family started this foundation in her memory and continue to do the work she was doing. We also started a scholarship for our college rugby team in her name.
Its funny though, its been a few years now and I don't feel as emotional about it anymore. She had died before I had my cancer and while another '20 something' friend of ours had beat his cancer. She reminded us that we are fallible. Nonetheless, I look forward.
But at the fundraiser her always positive father, clearly the source of her positivity, got up and gave a speech. He told us that in the moment, BE KIND. That's how we will honor her memory.
At that moment I started to cry. I did not always remember to be kind. To be honest its my first instinct to be defensive and aggressive; I have to consciously act kind. I don't fail necessarily at being kind but, it doesn't really come naturally to a glass half full, a lot of shit has gone down in my years, kinda person. Another reason for my emotional outburst was that I don't know if I could have been him. Standing there laughing, smiling, reminding us to be kind. He watched his child die. A wonderful person whose life was cut too short. He was with her when she decided to stop treatment because it wasn't working. He was with her when she couldn't eat but wanted to drink her last Keystone (she would have been a senior in college and it was only fitting that it be a cheap college beer). I think I may have crawled in a hole and never recovered. I get depressed if I have a car accident, if my basset hound stinks up my blankets and if there is sticky on the floor from my daughters snack. But not them. They started the foundation shortly after her death. They donate money to the college and our scholarship. They continue her charitable work in Haiti. They remember to BE KIND.
My 'to be' sister-in-law sent a letter to each bridesmaid describing the others. Under my name she said I was classy if not anything. I never think of myself that way. I always see myself as a hot mess barely holding it together and struggling to remember to be kind to others. It was such a compliment to be called classy. But, if she had called me kind, would I have seen that as an insult? Would I have thought she thought I was weak? Probably. And I would have been wrong. So I will graciously accept classy, but I am going to keep working on being KIND. Because Kellie understood something in her 21 years that I am still struggling with. And if she died to teach the rest of us the importance of kindness, then I will strive to honor her legacy.
Because kindness is not a weakness, its a sign of strength, compassion and class. Thank you to Kellie and her family for showing me that.
Her family started this foundation in her memory and continue to do the work she was doing. We also started a scholarship for our college rugby team in her name.
Its funny though, its been a few years now and I don't feel as emotional about it anymore. She had died before I had my cancer and while another '20 something' friend of ours had beat his cancer. She reminded us that we are fallible. Nonetheless, I look forward.
But at the fundraiser her always positive father, clearly the source of her positivity, got up and gave a speech. He told us that in the moment, BE KIND. That's how we will honor her memory.
At that moment I started to cry. I did not always remember to be kind. To be honest its my first instinct to be defensive and aggressive; I have to consciously act kind. I don't fail necessarily at being kind but, it doesn't really come naturally to a glass half full, a lot of shit has gone down in my years, kinda person. Another reason for my emotional outburst was that I don't know if I could have been him. Standing there laughing, smiling, reminding us to be kind. He watched his child die. A wonderful person whose life was cut too short. He was with her when she decided to stop treatment because it wasn't working. He was with her when she couldn't eat but wanted to drink her last Keystone (she would have been a senior in college and it was only fitting that it be a cheap college beer). I think I may have crawled in a hole and never recovered. I get depressed if I have a car accident, if my basset hound stinks up my blankets and if there is sticky on the floor from my daughters snack. But not them. They started the foundation shortly after her death. They donate money to the college and our scholarship. They continue her charitable work in Haiti. They remember to BE KIND.
My 'to be' sister-in-law sent a letter to each bridesmaid describing the others. Under my name she said I was classy if not anything. I never think of myself that way. I always see myself as a hot mess barely holding it together and struggling to remember to be kind to others. It was such a compliment to be called classy. But, if she had called me kind, would I have seen that as an insult? Would I have thought she thought I was weak? Probably. And I would have been wrong. So I will graciously accept classy, but I am going to keep working on being KIND. Because Kellie understood something in her 21 years that I am still struggling with. And if she died to teach the rest of us the importance of kindness, then I will strive to honor her legacy.
Because kindness is not a weakness, its a sign of strength, compassion and class. Thank you to Kellie and her family for showing me that.
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