Dear Kennedy, I Promise…

Dear Kennedy:

If on some days I seem impatient, I apologize for not taking the time to relax with you,
I probably spent the night up worrying about how to protect you forever.

If on some days I seem distant, I promise I am always by your side.
I have a thousand thoughts a day, but you are the center of them all.

If on some days you have more energy than I can muster, I promise to still get up and dance.
Even if for just a song or two, I will never say no to the chance to spin with you.

If on some days you seem hell-bent on doing something by yourself,
I promise to let you try, but always be within reach to catch you if you fall.

If on some days I seem to need a “time out” for myself, I promise to make it quick.
3 minutes by myself to breathe and refresh to continue trying to being the best mommy I can be.

If someday you fall and hurt yourself,
I promise to kiss your boo-boos and help you heal, even if only through my prayers.

If someday, no matter your age, you are sick,
I promise to give you homemade soup, endless cuddling and cookies of your choice.

If someday in the future, you feel bullied at school and your feelings are hurt,
I promise to hold you, to listen to you and to help you understand what is going on.

If someday in the future, I find out you are doing the bullying,
I promise still to hold you, to listen to you and to help you understand how you are hurting someone else.

If someday in the future you cannot solve a problem,
I promise not to solve it for you, but help you get to an answer.

If someday in the future, you feel like you cannot accomplish something,
I promise to show you your strength and how anything is possible if you work at it.

If someday in the future, I feel you are making poor decisions,
I promise to gently guide you without ever truly changing your direction, for that is for you to do.

If someday in the future you rebel and disobey,
I promise still to love you and trust you learn from your choices.

If someday in the future, you feel I simply don’t understand,
I promise I probably do not, but I will work to listen to the words you say instead of just hearing you.

If someday in the future a boy breaks your heart,
I promise to sit you down, wipe your tears and explain the difference between a boy and a man.

If someday in the future you are betrayed by a friend,
I promise to show you strong examples of friendship that I have created with the people who love you most, as my mother showed me in her bonds with the people that surrounded me.

If someday in the future you question yourself,
I promise to sit you down, as my father did with me, and explain exactly who you are, where you came from and how strong your roots are.

If someday in the future you feel scared,
I promise to protect you.

If someday in the future you feel the need to travel,
I promise to give you a journal and a map and send you on your way.

If someday in the future you feel lost,
I promise to pray for and with you.

If someday in the future you fall in love,
I will trust that this person respects you, makes you laugh, honors you and holds you in the highest regard.

If someday in the future you fall in love,
I will trust that you will return this respect, humor, honor and hold your partner in the highest regard.

If someday in the future you choose to marry the love of your life,
I will trust that you came to this decision together in love and with God for guidance.

If someday in the future you become a mother,
I will weep at the understanding that you will finally know the love I have for you.

If someday in the future I am able to watch you love and learn with your children,
I will listen to your concerns, soothe your fears, and thank God for letting me witness the strength of my daughter as a mother.

If someday in the future I am not around,
I promise you I am, even if not physically.

If someday in the future you find yourself missing me,
I promise you will feel me at your weakest moments and pray you find strength from our memories.

If someday in the future I am gone for good,
Know that it is because of you that I ever was the woman you remember, the woman I became and the woman I worked every day to be. Without you I was nothing, with you I realized I could be anything and because of you I had everything.

Love You to the Moon, Around the Sun, and MORE Than All of the Stars in the Universe,

Mama

 

Stop Drinking the Hate Juice: Learning to Celebrate Another Mother’s Efforts

WOW, can you hear that? No, you can’t because it’s called silence. The pounding and jackhammering in my head has finally subsided. And now that the mini construction demons are done sandblasting their way through my skull and my nose has returned to actually smelling things, I am happy to say I’m BACCKK!! But with me come my thoughts and opinions from the last couple of fog-brained and drugged days of consciousness. And like my main man Abasi loves to say, “opinions are like a&#holes… everyone’s got ‘em and they all stink!”

And trust me, my following thoughts might cause a stink…

2 days ago I read an article in the NY Post, by Karol Markowicz, that had been going around a few of my friends’ newsfeeds. It was titled “Modern Moms Looking for Perfection in All the Wrong Places” and even before I read it, I felt my cheeks beginning to tingle. Upon reading it, my initial response was indeed… DAMN! That stings!

I felt like I had been personally slapped in the face by the author. Why was I so directly offended by a person I didn’t even know? For starters, it could have been because as I sat there feeling snubbed and sorry for myself, I could literally see from the corner of my eye, the finger painted t-shirt Kennedy had just finished drying on the table. Gut punch delivered.

And then, clearly I had sat there frozen with frustration for too long, because as if to finish me off, my screen saver mockingly cascaded pictures of Kennedy’s 2^nd birthday party, Minnie Mouse themed all over my laptop… do-it-yourself Minnie ears and all. Upper cut… call the match.

At first I was annoyed because it felt like I was personally being told… “You try to hard.” “Stop faking perfection!” Trust me, ain’t no one faking perfection over here. Like you might have read in my first blog post, “The Perfect Moment to Share,” I believe everyone is entitled to beautiful moments and should show them off. They are your perfect moments, be proud of them. But I’ll be damned if I act like I have it all together.

I will be the first one to admit that Kennedy initially started going to “school” (daycare) at a year and half, BECAUSE I NEEDED TIME to get back to being me. To have time to work out or do yoga or go to the freaking beach without chasing a toddler. Or watch NCIS: Los Angeles uninterrupted. OR JUST TO BREATHE. I needed those 4 hours a day, 5 days a week to remember I was a human being. Doesn’t sound so perfect, does it? I could care less, I feel great, she has friends, learns things daily and we’re all better for it.

And that homemade t-shirt, finger painted to perfection… you bet your ass that’s going on Instgram, but wanna know the real reason behind it? You think I just want to expose my daughter to “the arts?”   Yea sure, that too. But what it really does is gives us something to do for 20 minutes a day in one spot. When we’re done, I can figure out what to do for the next 13 hours and 40 minutes of “awake time.” Cut me some slack if I’m proud enough of the finished product that came from my “toddler control/ mama sanity methods.” Ps: We painted a mug the next day, and I love that too…

And what the hell is this about the “old days?” Do we really want to go back to a time when we would just throw our kids in front of a TV dinner and walk away to shake up some martinis? Believe you me, I’m 27 years old and my mother had a home cooked meal on the table for us EVERY NIGHT of the week… and still had time for a cocktail. Because she’s awesome. And so awesome in fact, that this trend of “newly themed birthdays” must really be holding on something fierce because I had themed birthdays and homemade carousel birthday cakes in the 80’s and 90’s. That’s a hell of a “fad” if you ask me.

You know what we, as a society, did do 30 or more years ago? Smoke during pregnancies, drive without seat belts and use minimal to no sunscreen. If you ask me, thank God we’ve made some discoveries and adaptations to our parenting abilities.

But then I woke up, after 2 days of bed-ridden contemplation and as the last cloud drifted from my refreshed brain, I realized why I was truly pissed off at this article.  BECAUSE THERE ARE SO MANY OTHER THINGS TO WORRY ABOUT!

In a world where war, poverty, starving children and rapists run rampant, why in the world are we accusing from one mother to another of trying too hard or trying to live up to something we’re not. Is the fact that I made a Minnie Mouse shaped cake to match the plates and the balloons and the invitations really that big of a deal? Is the fact that I prefer home cooked meals IF possible over take out or processed, something that really just means I’m “over thinking parenting?” HELL NO!  It’s simply my choice.

There are women who beat their children, drop their children off in dumpsters and do things to them that as a woman and a mother, I am unprepared to type. You know these monsters. We all read about them in our every day news. Yet, instead of congratulating another mother on her job well done we simply scoff and assume she’s fakin’ it till she makes it.

Shame on us.

Shame on us for not lifting one another up. For not recognizing that every parent and specifically mother is on her own journey and experience and only doing AS GOOD AS SHE KNOWS HOW. Shame on us for not supporting and celebrating the accomplishments and victories other mothers have, as much as we punish and chastise the mothers that do evil. Shame on us for shaming other mothers.

To be fair, I do agree with Mrs. Markowicz when she says, “Make sure your child’s life is fun and meaningful, instead of pretty and picturesque.” Truer words have never been spoken.  I want nothing more in this entire world than for my daughter to be healthy, happy and full of love.  But instead of holding anything at all in contempt of another person, just celebrate what they do well and move on. And maybe at some point you remember that your friend Susie Homemaker is fantastic at making centerpieces, call on her for help and guidance. In return and gratitude, offer your services at something you excel at, whatever it may be. If we were a society more interested in supporting not ONLY the children of our future, but the people raising our futures, we may be pleasantly surprised at the examples we demonstrate and the outcomes from it.

Personally, I enjoy making Halloween costumes, painting and cooking. They are some of my super mama strengths. I lack in patience and the ability to listen to the same God-awful cartoons day in and day out. I don’t believe in giving my toddler a bath every single day. I am a vegetarian, but I let her eat meat if it means she will eat SOMETHING! I am not perfect, but I am trying. I am doing the very best that I can in the journey that I am on, with the tools that I have available to me. And the one universal tool happens to be love. We all have it, we all use it, some to open different doors than others, but we all have it. Recognize your path, respect that someone else’s journey is different and at all cost, just lift one another up towards the common goal of loving and protecting our children and you have succeeded.

Rant over.

My Saving Grace: Mama Friends That Understand

WHEEWW! We have ALL been there. Burned out, stressed out, on the brink of losing our freaking minds and nowhere to turn. And then… just as you thought you were the last non zombie mom alive, actually believing that you could feel yourself going to the dark side… you get a text message from a fellow mama friend, saying she’s going to flip her s*%t and you break into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. That’s right everyone, MISERY DOES LOVE COMPANY! And on days when your toddler won’t stop saying no or throws her food on the ground or the laundry keeps piling up, it feels so much better to have friends who understand. Friends who WON’T JUDGE YOU! Friends who would totally get why you locked your kid in their room for 15 minutes so you could have a freaking hot shower by yourself for the first time in days. Not saying it’s happened, I’m saying they would get it. Don’t judge me.

And THANK GOD for these friends, in whatever form they come in. If you’re lucky enough to have family and friends close by to lean (cry) on, then power to you! Or maybe just a few around that truly get it. You don’t really need A LOT OF FRIENDS that understand… just enough to make it seem like we are actually all in this together, IT’S NOT JUST ME!

Trust me, a lot of my friends actually DO NOT GET IT. They are still single, or newly married, carefree (see last post : / ) and baby free. YES, they “understand it’s difficult” when my 2 year old daughter stays up until 1am because we’ve been traveling and her clock is askew. And it’s “totally normal” to get “frustrated” when Kennedy ONLY throws fits with me. Not her dad. Not her grandparents. Not her teachers. NO, THIS IS A SPECIAL GIFT FOR MOMMY! They mean well, but they really don’t get it.  How could they?

And I find myself siting there trying to explain that I REALLY DO LOVE BEING A MOM.  “OHH, of course you do sweetie.” Yea, right, they probably think I’m bat shit crazy. Poor Krysta isn’t handling motherhood very well, is she. Yea? Bite me.

Because even though these friends, and they truly are AMAZING friends, don’t get it, thankfully I have a few that do. AND THEY SINGLE HANDEDLY MAKE THE WORLD MAKE SENSE AGAIN. Being the oldest to one brother (who I hope doesn’t have any kids out there yet, just kidding Bran), I never had a sister growing up. But I’ve been blessed to have 2 great sister-in-laws through Abasi and 1 of the 2 is right here with me in this journey of being first time mamas. Niki gets me. I mean really gets me. Her son, my nephew and Kennedy’s best friend in the whole world, Kai, is 7 and half months older than Ken. And we live 2 miles from each other, here in Costa Rica. Can you believe my luck? That means I follow her parenting trajectory like no one’s business. Just when we think Kai has fallen out of a bad habit, Kennedy follows in his footsteps and BOOM it’s like dodging baby temper grenades all over again. When I’m at my lowest, I can call her and say “the little terrorist is going to make me punch myself in the face” and she just laughs. And I need her to laugh at me, because I need to laugh… at anything.

Going for a bike ride with Kai and Kennedy ❤

And then you have experiences with mommy friends that are so special and rare because distance doesn’t allow you to commiserate, laugh and share on the regular. But when they do, as was the case when my dear friend Alli and I got to drive 6 hours from Atlanta, GA to Destin, FL last September, you’re able to get it all out: the laughing, the crying, the frustrations, and the guilt free bragging. And so back and forth, 6 hours each way, we had our first real talk as mothers.  It may not happen often, but I relish it when it does.

Alli and I with little Benny and Kennedy ❤

And finally, because you are a mom, you start to meet NEW moms. Friends who you might never have met if it weren’t for your little ones going to daycare. And let’s be honest, a majority of these parents you will simply be cordial with at pick up and drop off times, before RUSHING HOME to savor your moments of freedom. Or clean the house, do the laundry, grocery shop… whatever, when there’s not a kid attached to your leg while doing it, even laundry seems fun. BUT sometimes, you will strike gold and find a really cool parent that is going through the same stuff, at the same time, and HEY what do you know? You both just dropped off your kid… did you say coffee?? You mean, go sit down in a café, drink a cappuccino and talk to an adult? YES PLEASE! And that’s how I feel about my friend, Zoee: mother to Amira and my newest and super awesome friend whom I simply adore laughing and talking with over a simple cup of coffee! Do we mean it when we call our children “Midget Monsters” whose only purpose is to wreak havoc on our lives and sanity? NO. But is it funny and amusing to be so outlandish? Damn skippy.

And there will be more. More friends will join the elite ranks of “love my child, but I’m gonna lose my cool” mamas. It’s all a part of it. For women and friends that don’t have kids yet, I DON’T BLAME YOU for not getting it… neither did I before Kennedy. And truth be told, I appreciate your honest attempt at making me feel better, but you would be appalled at some of the things I’d be willing to do for a hot shower by myself every once in a while. It’s probably better if we leave our war stories to ourselves and save your innocent and naïve souls.

And that my friends, is what saves my sanity, what warms my heart, what keeps me going when times get tough… my friends that understand. It can be extremely lonely when you are at your wit’s end. And honestly, at the end of a long day, the last thing you want is to complain to your significant other about “how rough it was today.” So, without some of their funny stories or comparable nightmares, I could quite honestly lose my mind. Niki, Alli, Zoee and more are all beautiful examples of exactly what I need and when I need it.

We all have one or two… or I hope you do… so go on and call up that friend the next time your angel takes off her diaper, pees on the floor and then plays in it. Or when you’ve been listening to your kid scream for 45 minutes straight. Or the next time that cutest little thing in the whole wide world, looks at you and says NO! for the 1000 time that day and you can actually envision yourself on a boat to no where, all by yourself, happiest you’ve ever been. Obviously, these are just moments in an otherwise awesome journey and experience. I would never want to be all by myself, without Kennedy in my life… for more than 2 weeks… err days, err hours. We’re human folks, and we need other people to remind us of that. So thank you to all the mama friends, mine especially, out there that continuously help one another out, reel in the crazy, swap stories and remind us that “this too shall pass.” Preferably over margaritas. Just saying.

What was your “on the brink moment” when you needed some serious sanity saving? Can you look back at laugh at it now?  Feel free to share below… remember it’s funny when it happens to someone else!

Niki and I with Kai and Kennedy at the beach in Punta Uva.

Super Moms by day… Super Women by night…

Why I Let My Daughter Paint My Nails the UGLIEST Shade of Yellow in the Whole Wide World…

MY. GOD. If you could see my fingernails in person, you would think I have some rare disease. I mean honestly, it looks like my nails have jaundice. What a God-awful color to even produce, let alone wear.

So then why am I wearing it?

Well, because my little girl wanted me too. And she wanted to be the one to put it on. And because right now, at the age she is, why would I ever make a big deal about what color my nails are, if SHE THINKS IT’S PERFECT.

But it also gave us time to learn. She (and I) had to practice patience in our movements with the brush. And attention to detail. And hand stability. And even MORE patience, as we had to wait for the first coat… and yes, that is actually more than one coat… to dry.

And so ultimately, it went down like this:

She held up the bottle and said “you?”

And I asked, “Uumm… are you sure? Is there another color you like?”

“No Mama!”

In my head: DAMNIT! To her: “Well, what color is that then?”

“Yelwoow”

In my head: DAMNIT! To her: “It certainly is, go ahead Kennedy,”

So for the next 20 minutes, I helped her to guide the brush, up and down, and across and over and a few other directions nail polish isn’t supposed to go, but eventually it was done. And Kennedy was happier than a pig in you know what. And that made it worth it.

And now, I am wearing the most hideous yellow on my nails for the whole world to see, because my 2 year old did it. And she was proud of it. And I was proud of her. What is the point of wasting an opportunity to learn, share and make memories with your child just because you may… and I do… look silly wearing it? I would walk around in a brown paper bag if Kennedy decorated it and was proud enough of it to ask me to wear it.

IT’S WHAT BEING A PARENT IS ALL ABOUT! If we didn’t have these kinds of moments, then the other stressful moments would seem endless. It is the beauty in the simplicity of happiness that a child has that we can not only enjoy with them, but learn from. Don’t let a mess get in the way of some fun! Literally, get your hands dirty and finger paint with your little ones. Dress up and have a tea party! The only person in the world that matters is sharing that cup with you and at that very moment, she thinks you are the coolest person in the universe.

So, again, why did I let my daughter paint my nails the ugliest shade of yellow??? Because what I am learning more than anything about parenthood is that aside from it being joyous and exciting and stressful and crazy and mind-blowing, is that in the end… it’s really just FLEETING. One day I will turn around and Kennedy won’t care what color my nails are, let alone want to paint them for me. The moments and opportunities for memories and experiences are dwindling every day as our children grow.   And I for one, will try to reach out and capture every one of those. With my yellow nailed hands. ; )

Our toes in the sand at Kennedy’s 2nd birthday party.

Our toes in the sand at Kennedy’s 1st birthday party. 1st time having her toes painted! ❤

The Perfect Moment to Share…

As a mom, and a young mom, I always want life to seem perfect.  I know this is unrealistic, but still I want to dress my daughter in the cutest outfits and rocking a perfect fro. I want to seem as if I am 2 steps ahead and with every hair in its pretty little place. Frustrated? Me? NEVER! Losing control? Get real! And need proof, that life is just as it should be, well then take a look at my Instagram account. The perfect sunset behind my handsome and buff man, kids playing perfectly in the water, dinner that is worthy of the cover of a cooking magazine? Of course, I want to portray control and beauty. Of course, I only show the real world my semi-real world. Would you show a picture of your 3 loads of CLEAN laundry heaped on the floor? Or of that burnt chicken that not even your dog would eat? How about a picture of your 2 year old throwing a tantrum on the floor and you sitting on the couch, dazed and about to lose it? Didn’t think so.

I do seem to live a pretty perfect life. I have a sexy fiancée, a beautiful and healthy daughter, a thriving business and we live in Costa Rica for goodness sake! And don’t get me wrong… life is good, but there are always thoughts about the “grass being greener on the other side.” And after going back and forth with it, feeling guilty about everyone constantly saying “Your life seems so perfect!” “I wish I had your life,” blah blah blah, I realized WHO CARES?! I realized it’s OK if I show the perfect moments in a not perfect world. Do I look ready to take on the world every day, strong, confident and beaming? No! A lot of days I’m in yoga pants with no bra on until late afternoon and only after walking past myself in the mirror 20+ times do I finally get my arse in gear. That’s when I would snap that perfect shot! And if you think my beautiful little girl, who takes the most absolute perfect pictures, simply stares off into the sunset like that… well then you’re only kidding yourself. I had to take 18,000 pictures to get that one, and her look of deep thinking is more of a purposely-not-looking-at-mom look. And damn if I didn’t make a beautiful looking eggplant parm the other night, but I bet you couldn’t tell from the pictures that my pasta was… and I apologize to my mother for this… UNDERCOOKED! But it looked good right? Bet your arse it did.

The way I choose to look at it is this: Life is not perfect. Things happen in the blink of an eye, life changes, you burn the chicken and your kid poops on the ground. So when I post a picture of my little girl gazing out into the water, small smile on her face, with the perfect filter on the photo to capture the moment and someone says “Wow, you really are living the life,” I smile, guilt free and think… yes, at that very moment I was. And even if the next moment is Kennedy sprawled out on the sand, kicking and screaming because we’re leaving the beach, then just for that one moment it was perfect. And there will be more. And maybe, just maybe, Instagram DOES depict life as it truly is. Just little snapshots of perfection in a crazy world. And when that next moment happens, I promise to show you.   With a perfect filter to fit that perfect moment. You can count on it.

 

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