We Are Equal.

I live in a world where women are equal. I live in this world because my husband joined the United States Coast Guard. The USCG has NEVER had gender norming rules and requirements. They have the strong belief that the job is the job is the job and your faith, your sex, your gender, your race, your desire to have a family does not factor into or change the job from their standpoint.

The USCG admitted women to their Academy before any other branch was legally required to by congressional mandate. The USCG had the first female CO Afloat (Beverly Kelley, 1979) in US history. She met the same requirements as every other CO Afloat. The first woman to complete Navy Dive School was USCG BM2 Linda Moroz in 1984. The first female AST (rescue swimmer) met the exact same requirements as every other AST, only better. Kelly Mogk-Larson was the first female Coast Guardsman to graduate from the Navy Rescue Swimmer School in 1986. AST1 Karen Voorhees became the FIRST (regardless of gender) ASTC in the USCG in 2013. The first woman to hold the job of Surfman (and yes, that's Surfman, not "surfwoman") met the exact same requirements as every other Surfman (now CWO Beth Slade). A title and job held by approximately 500 members making up approximately 1% of the USCG forces, is held by few women. But those women can proudly say that they earned it just like their shipmates with the same honor. In 2013 Surfman 484 became only the 6th woman to earn the job of Surfman. In 1990 SKCM Mary Fowlkes was the first African-American woman to deploy to the middle east during Operation Desert Shield-Desert Storm. That same year Annie Visser was the first woman to promote to CWO (BOSN). In 1993 BM2 Kathy Niles became the first woman to qualify on the '47 MLB.

Because of my husband I am raising a son and a daughter in a culture that respects honor, equality, and hard work. A culture that believes the job is the job is the job, no matter what else is happening in Washington DC. The raging Pacific Ocean still requires a dedicated Surfman to keep their crew safe while running a SAR case. The needs of those missing at sea still require a dedicated and AST to get them to safety (with the help of an entire helicopter crew). I don't need someone to tell me what feminism is. I don't need someone to tell me that I don't value women's rights because of my politics, my role in my family, or my disapproval of what has become of the feminist movement. I stand proudly, on the shoulders of Lucretia Motts, E.C. Stanton, Charlotte Woodward and Eleanor C. L’Ecuyer when I proudly say that their dreams have come to life in the USCG; without presidential mandate, congressional mandate, public march, public protest, or anything beyond their own belief that the job is the job is the job.  If you're wondering who that last woman was, let me tell you about how that woman earned a law degree and became the first female attorney hired by the Coast Guard and she fought for the Coast Guard to open all roles up to women, starting in 1951. She fought for pregnancy to not be seen as a disability (which is won in the CG, but not yet in the civilian world), she fought for dual service marriages to be allowed to co-locate. She retired in 1971 as a Captain, and was the longest serving SPAR. The women of the United States Coast Guard fought from the inside, and by the rules, to make sure that women were afforded equality in every way within the CG.

In the United States Coast Guard women are equal to men. If you want to live in this world, if you want to be a part of the greatest force for women's rights, then join the Coast Guard. Otherwise, shut up and sit down because you aren't willing to sacrifice your life for your cause. Meanwhile the brave women, men, and animals of the USCG put theirs on the line every single day to provide national security, safe waterways, to educate, and in the words of my son "protect the sea unicorns". And these kick ass women if the USCG didn't earn their accolades because they were crusading for equal rights. They earned them doing the job, that they wanted. Because the job is the job is the job. In the Coast Guard, it's a calling.

So women and men marching on Washington today: in the eyes of God and the United States Coast Guard we are equal.

The Untitled Home School Post

I don't even know what to title this. We home school. When I say this, I don't say this lightly. I don't say this unguardedly. I say this scared and cautiously. Not because I am doing anything wrong. Rather, it is because other people have taught me that they have no fucking clue what home school looks like, how it happens, or what it takes. We didn't come to this decision lightly. We got stationed in a state that would keep our son out of school an extra year. He attended preschool at 3 years old and loved it. He more than loved it. He loved school, his classmates, his teacher (she had an unfair advantage in being his aunt). He blossomed there and it was uniquely his after a lot of upheaval in his life. He moved states, his daddy went from stay at home dad to being in the military (and gone a lot), he got a baby sister, the list could go on when it comes to what my sweet boy had to cope with in less than 6 months. For us, preschool was a blessing. He got to have a life separate from his sister, and he didn't have to feel so alone and out of control. I'm not saying he didn't have some growing pains; because he sure as hell did. But it was an overwhelmingly positive experience. So when I say that we home school, and didn't come to this decision lightly, I assure you I mean it. With orders to Hawai'i though we were faced with a long term problem. The cost of preschool is stupid high here, and he would still be held back a year because the birth date cut off is in July and his birthday is in August.

These factors led to the realization that we would have to home school. This wasn't really an option. But neither of us really do anything half way. We are all in or all out sort of people. The only time you find us half in something is when we're trying to do it for the other person, but we're not really into it. By the way, this pretty much is a super rare thing. So we would have to be all in. I spent weeks researching curricula and trying to decide about shipping costs to Hawai'i (if companies even shipped to Hawai'i), do I risk being over weight with the movers and get the materials on the mainland before the move, how the FUCK do people do this?? I had friends, fortunately, who home school and they let me see curricula and talked to me about what my options were, what did I really need to teach? They helped me navigate the treacherous waters that home schooling is surrounded by. [If inquiring minds want to know, my daughter is running around my living room screaming and crying...it's distracting, but I cannot soothe her-I have tried]. I read blog after blog after blog on home schooling curricula, schedules, organization, methods etc. It was a long and exhausting time for me. Fortunately, with my friends by my side and the help of an awesome blog , which allowed me the peace of mind and courage to piece together my own curriculum, I was able to make some decisions and get everything settled for our son to home school through the first grade. Our military life gave us opportunities to talk to other military families that home school and how they make it work, why they make it work. In fact, my CoastieBestie writes a few different blogs (including being a military spouse in the smallest of the military branches) and she has given me extra support and love along the way as we've been navigating our first year of home school. And that's where we are: year 1.

So what does my "school week" look like? Some weeks it's 5 days (M-F) of school work, some it's 4 days, and this week it's 7. I have the freedom (and sometimes burden) to make my weeks as long or short as necessary. I write my own daily schedule and when life interferes (because for real it does) I have to shuffle and adjust. I don't just have year long goals for my kid...I don't actually have year long goals...I have month long goals. I sit down with my day planner and I look at the previous month and where we're at. Then I set the monthly goals. I am setting November's goals this weekend. My October goals were pretty basic.

• Get to Lesson 10 in math
• Finish title case writing prompts
• Identify numbers 1-10 by sight
• Identify the alphabet by sight
• Get to Lesson 50 in reading. 
• Have fun, color more

That's it ladies and gents. Six goals and some started part way through the month. Last week we had a 4 day week. Why? Because I went to the Joint Spouse's Conference on Friday and my husband would have both kids to himself. In the interest of making it easier on him, I wrote my schedule so that he didn't have to do any structured schooling. The week prior was a standard 5 day week and this week is a 7 day week. SEVEN DAYS!? What am I thinking!? I'm thinking that my sweet husband thought he would be ever helpful last Friday and stain our kitchen benches. The benches were not finished by Monday and I was without a work space for school work. So we did a little bit from Monday's, Tuesday's, and Wednesday's schedule (adjusting each day as we went and making sure that we prioritized our monthly goals) and I finished staining the benches Thursday and we finally started getting back on track. However, the only way to meet our monthly goals, at this point, is to do some school work every day until the end of the month. Even then...I think I'm going to fall short somewhere. But I will come close and that's acceptable to me. That is the joy of my home school choices.

What curriculum do I use? Because let us be honest; this is one of the widely asked questions of those trying to survive the shark infested waters that is figuring out this home school thing. I had originally planned to buy a boxed "complete" curriculum. However, I decided against it the more my friends assured me that I only NEED to teach reading, writing, and math. So with that in mind I set out to find those things. Reading was the "easiest" choice to make. Several friends all used the same book so I snatched it up from Amazon at a great price under $15. I thought I was done. A few other friends also used Bob Books so I snatched up some of those as well, as I figured it couldn't hurt to have supplemental reading...right? Then I got even more carried away and got some of Scholastic's beginning readers, because again: it couldn't hurt to have supplemental reading. Then I stopped. I moved onto writing...this was fraught with danger. I initially just used free print out from all over the Pinterestverse. But I quickly realized that I needed more. I needed a better, more hands on way to teach writing. My son is a wiggle worm. He is an active child that loves to move and physically do things. So when I found that awesome blog above, I knew I was reading from a mom on my level. I loved her writing and her math curriculum. I started researching further into both and asking various teacher friends, friends with degrees in teaching science. They supported these 2 choices and then all I had to do was get over the sticker shock. In the end I chose to go with Handwriting Without Tears for writing and I bought the kit with the wooden pieces and letter cards so that my son could physically make the letters, write the letters, and even build the letters. He loves it. For math I chose Right Start Mathematics and Life of Fred. Math is incredibly important to me and I want to give my son different avenues to learn this ever important subject. These are the things we came to Hawai'i with. Then it got even more complicated. I decided for fun I should find some science picture books to read to our son, maybe even with him, and while it wouldn't be any "classroom" type science, he would get to hear about various science topics. We have read a few books on the weather, some on the ocean, some on animals etc. I also grabbed a book about maps and my husband and son read it together and then draw out various maps (his bedroom, our house, our street etc). This stuff is purely for fun and not at all our focus. Speaking of fun, I bought a dot-to-dot and puzzle book specifically for pre-k through 1st grade kids at Sam's Club. Each day he gets to do a page out of it for fun learning. I also realized that there was a gap between my son finishing the first part of HWT and the next step. So I got a composition book and on one side I wrote out the lyrics to various songs and had him copy them on the other side. I shop Target's "dollar" section. I got some great resources there, like these neat little alphabet puzzle cards that I use to help my son be able to match up the letters and identify them better by sight. He loves it and doesn't consider it work. My mom is another great resource. Being so far from family my mom sends us a care package about every 6 weeks. Inside are a variety of things from stuffed animals for the kids to candles of me for when the power goes out. She has also sent things that I can use as a part of my home schooling. Not always, but I always want to be able to use what she sends and I usually can. I have hodge-podged together what our curriculum is. I have cherry picked what I like and what will help my son best.

And to that, I think that is the best way to go. If you're asking me, which you're not. I love that I have complete control of what we're doing and not strapped into anything. I can take a day off, I can add two days to the schedule. My daughter had to do a hour long sweat test this week; my son and his little notebook of work came with and he did it there. I love how portable this is. I also love my carefree organization for what work we do. I keep track of each day's work on a post-it and I cross each item off as we do it. At the end I place each sticky into a composition book that I keep. There I make notes on how it went, or didn't, and areas where we can do better. I also stash in there things that show developmental/educational progress, like a kindergarten readiness evaluation and various crafts/drawings. I have it to look back on and to, hopefully, encourage me by how far we've come. We'll see how that plays out. There is one particular note I wrote to myself about having an independent reader by my birthday...we'll see how close we get to that being a reality, I've got a few months to get there. I even keep track of his reading from the Usborne First Reading Library. Why have I told you all of this? Because, I think my friends forget that I am with my kids and educating them every freaking day. So if I smack my head and mutter "what the fucking shit is this kid" (so that my son can't hear me, and never where he is anyway) when my son started randomly writing his 'N' backwards, it's because I know that he hasn't had that problem until this week and I expect him to correct himself. Not because I have unrealistic expectations of my kids or because I'm a horrible mother. It's because I know my kid and I know he's only writing them backwards because he thinks I'm not paying attention to him and he is trying to get more mom time. It doesn't always work, because we have rules for when he needs attention and how to go about getting it in a healthy way without invoking negative consequences. I know my son can write "happy birthday", and I expect him to. I don't mind guiding him on it, but I know he can do it. He also has the best cheerleaders ever: MOM and DAD. He gets to hear us tell him every day that he can do it; that we believe in him. I don't know many other kids that get this every single day of their lives in such a meaningful way. Many parents are encouraging and supportive, but they don't get to see their child in the classroom every day and what their skill levels are on a regular basis. They are great parents still, but we get to see more than they do. It can also be a problem because I smack my head and mutter "what the actual fuck am I doing wrong" on a weekly, sometimes daily, basis.

If you came here looking for home school advice, you have it. If you came here and have home school friends that you just don't get: now you have a better idea, bring them wine.


disclaimer: I don't get anything for providing links, I just do it to make it easier for my readers to look at this stuff.

I Watch You Breathe, So That I Can Too

Dear Sweet Boy,

I love you. It has been a long hard year and it's about to get harder, again. Daddy and I love you so much. I know you feel that you are less important to me. I know that you think your sister has taken over my attention. The military has ruined your perfect family in your eyes. Your teacher is gone, your friends are gone, you live in a place with rules about TAPS that you don't fully understand, your daddy has been gone for most of the year. Your life has been turned upside-down. You have made a few new friends but not as many as you could if you were in preschool again. There are so many new rules, they come with age, and you don't really like them. You have had to take a back seat to your sister's doctors appointments and you have so much energy that keeping you in a doctor's office isn't fair to anyone. I'm so sorry. I try to arrange for you to get to be with one of your friends while mommy takes baby sister to yet another specialist appointment. It just doesn't always work out that way though bud. I don't know how to explain to you that your friend's parents have lives and plans and they can't always have you over when little sister has an appointment. Sometimes, you have to come with us. It breaks my heart when I see you acting out because of this new dynamic where you get less time with mom and dad and sister gets more mom time. I know you think I sound mean when I correct your behavior (yet again), but on the inside I'm sobbing tears of sorrow that I pray you never understand.

Your sister sees over a dozen specialists and you have to go with us, or be home and not be involved for those appointments. You have to be quiet while mommy and doctors/therapists talk. When you ask me what is wrong with your little sister it is everything I have not to breakdown when I say, "I don't know". Because the truth of not knowing is killing me, and it's why we see so many specialists. "I don't know" is why the balance scales of mom's time are "unfairly" tipped in your sister's favor. "I don't know" are three words I don't want to ever say again in regards to your sister's health. I cringe at them, I hate them. I hate that 'I don't know' with every fiber of my being and my sweet boy I want you to know something: as fierce and passionate as you've seen me fighting for your sister, I will fight for you. You are just as loved and important as she is. You've seen me in full bitch/get the job done mode and you've seen me breakdown when I am lost in trying to help her. You have patted my back, held my face in your tiny hands, and told me that everything is going to be okay. You are the sweetest little boy ever, and in those moments my heart breaks all over again for you and what you are missing out on, what you are witnessing. My precious child, I wish you didn't have to see this sometimes. I tell myself that it's okay. That you are seeing what a strong mom/woman looks like. But mostly, in my heart, those are lies I tell myself to comfort myself.

What you don't know most is that your exhausted mom is fighting for you too. The only way for you to do your 2nd year of Cubbies is if mommy "volunteers" to help the AWANA Club. So mommy volunteers and you get to do your 2nd year of Cubbies. While other parents probably don't think much of it, this is asking a lot of your mommy. The time is incredibly inconvenient, there's a lot of work involved when trying to plan for everyone, our Sundays are fully booked. When we get home the last thing I want to do is make dinner and that whole nighttime routine thing, but I do it. I do it so that you have something that you love, that doesn't revolve around your sister. We did swim lessons, just for you buddy. You get to do crafts and projects (just you and dad or mom) that you love. I make myself be a better mom, for you. You challenge me to be more patient, be gentle and you remind me that I need more grace. You don't know it, but once the house is still and everyone is asleep for the night, I sneak into your room and watch you sleep. I count your breaths, breathe with you. While you sleep, sister sleeps, daddy sleeps (when he's home) I am in your room, praying over you, telling you that I love you, doing yoga and taking a few moments just to share space with you. When I finish, I kiss your forehead and sneak out down the hall. I pray over your sister before I snuggle up to my pillow (or your daddy if he's home) and I fall asleep with hope that tomorrow can be better.

I promise you my sweet boy, I will someday know what is going on with your sister. I have to find the answer not just for her, but for you as well. I love you, please hold onto that as we muddle through this.

Love,
Mommy

The Mom War. How do you measure up to your own standards, and whose back do you have?

The mommy wars are a real thing. But the mom war is a personal nightmare and struggle. The sanctimonious mothers of the world do their best to make themselves look better and make you feel worse. You meager mother who is making scrambled eggs for the 4th straight week because it's all you've got in you. Or you, mom who has poured cereal for dinner again. These women...there just aren't words for them, and we could all be better off if they just toned it down a fucking notch. Do you know where the real struggle is though? It's amongst our own friends. We find our tribe, it's true. But sometimes within our own tribe of mothers we find our worst enemies are also our friends.

"I live for my kids." "I never knew what my purpose in life was until I had X." "love getting to stay home with Y and be his mommy." "I am so blessed to be able to work from home and spend more time with my babies."

They mean these things. These aren't sanctimommies. These are real mommies who often appreciate and can relate to the fact that you let your 2 year old eat a stale fry off the car floor that has NEVER been cleaned. They just also happen to be biologically engineered to love being mothers; it feeds their souls. Their social media is a mixture of light hearted mom oops and how much they love being mommy. They do the real damage to a mom's fragile state of mind. The mom that is hiding in the bathroom crying, door locked, kids banging on the door and screaming, baby screaming because the dog won't move out of the hallway so the baby can have a 2 foot clearance on either side. That mom, she might get herself all calmed down and take a moment to skim Facebook before braving the tiny dictators, and that is when she will fall apart all over again. Some friend will have just posted about how amazing being a mom is and how fulfilling it is. And our bathroom hiding mom will be in tears, again. She is not as good a mom as her friend. After all, her friend has similar struggles but she still loves being a mom. Our mom is terrified to get out of bed each morning because she isn't sure she can make it through another day. I'm not talking about all the moms out there that are struggling with mental health issues. Those moms are my heros, and they too fight an uphill battle every day. I mean the moms that are struggling to come to terms with being a mom.

Being a mom does not fulfill her. She is freaking out, why did she think she would be good at this? What was she thinking? She is about to snap her kid in half if he picks on his sister again. How the hell did her kid become such a little shit!? Being a mom is the most important work we do. Raising our kids not to be douchebags is incredibly important, giving them a good moral compass. This shit is hard. And when you don't live up to your own standards, and those of your family, it's even harder. You then have only your tribe to turn to and sometimes they can't even help. You fall apart. Our poor struggling mom is doubting everything in life because she feels like the world's biggest failure as a mom.

Nobody tells her that that feeling is actually what makes her a great mom. That feeling (as long as we aren't talking about clinical depression and/or anxiety) will push her to be better. That feeling will make her review her methods and do "better". I said "better" because that word is subjective. She may already be a kickass mom who is raising the kids on her own because she's a military spouse or single parent (there really isn't much difference-long distance emotional support), but in her mind there is better. As moms, as fellow travelers on this journey, we need to remind ech other that we are good enough. We need to be willing to help each other out and take the kids off each other's plates occasionally. And when it happens that the only thing that will make it better is daddy/husband/tequila-we need to be there extra for her. We need to help her get through until that can happen. Because she is NOT weak, she IS a good mom, and she is WORTHY of support. You can't even imagine how appreciative she will be when you reach out and support her. This is like a life's debt in the mommy world. She will have your back whenever you need her.

Will you just fucking relax!?

I cannot tell you how many times my husband probably screams in his head that I need to relax. I cannot tell you, not because I don't know, but because I've lost count. I suppose if you counted it 1 for every second that he is awake that would be a general idea of how often he thinks this. I am sure that a lot women feel this way. Or men. Because I tell him to calm the fuck down a lot as well. If he's home, odds are that I have said it to myself every second I'm awake and verbalized it at least twice. It's a mutual theme in our family and marriage: RELAX, CHILL OUT, CALM THE FUCK DOWN, ROLL WITH IT.

We weren't always like this. We were not always uptight stuffy types. Seriously. We weren't. We used to go on camping trips all over the state. Not super structured ones. I remember all of them. I remember when he forgot to pack my tent poles when he was packing for us and we had to sleep in the car. I remember taking him all over the state to see the beautiful and amazing things I love about our state and we went to Pinnacles National Monument and the mosquitoes were so thick we barely made it through dinner before retreating to the car. I remember when he took me and the wonder dog to Dillons Beach and the unexpected cows. I remember when we were on Soda Lake Road out on the Carrizo Plains and he was flipping out that I was driving too fast so I applied the break at the wrong moment and had to keep the suv from flipping. That particular moment stands out as the reason why we don't backseat drive each other. We used to have 2 hours between jobs and run to the local quarry to get some bouldering in, or worked half days and got out for a quick hike. Day off? Grab the snowshoes and hit the snowed over trails with the wonder dog. We used to be laid back and easy going. As long as our bills were paid we were good. And then...we had kids. No joke.

I had this idea that I wanted to be a stay at home mom and home school my kids. I had big big BIG plans for our family. We would still be bohemians that only worried about paying bills and getting to the next adventure. We would drive all over the country and teach our kids all about our natural world and we would have awesome hippy kids that can send a 5.14 by age 9, thru - hiked the JMT with us by the age of 5, and eventually be able to identify trees by their leaves, nuts, bark, or pinecones. I had big, delusional dreams. Then I had my son. My amazing and beautiful son.

He and his little sister are the lights of my world. I want all the same things for them but do you know what happens when you become a mom? Forget the metaphorical monsters and pitfalls in life, the hormonal changes that make you suddenly hyper aware that your child is 3 inches from a ledge of a 4" high step. And then I start to reign in the crazy. I'm not even kidding. I was at a potluck dinner at our church recently. Small thing, just about 10 folks including our pastor. Hubs was at work so I was being super mom with both kids and ghetto paella. We're doing a game and my son is off with some older boys who have repeatedly promised me that they will not let my son walk out the front doors, through the parking lot, across the highway and off the cliff into the ocean, and my daughter is on the stage playing with a friend and some other tinies. While trying to do this game/interactive thing I am also watching my daughter. She is being supervised by my friend, but I am also keeping watch, while our pastor is having a great laugh at me as I am visibly having to calm myself down and not leap across the table and rush the tiny stage to save my daughter from getting too close to the edge. I've become the mom that has to stuff the helicopter back into the hangar every 10 minutes. I've gotten pretty good about it with my son. He took a spill on new year's day and while everyone was freaking out, I was calmly letting them know that he was fine. I was that chill mom that was letting her kid dust himself off. But I am having to learn it all over again with my daughter. Poor hubs is...stressed. Everything about our kids stresses him out. He has yet to figure out how chill out with 1 child, forget 2. So we are 2 wound up tight people who can remember what it was like before we were parents and wound up. We still dream of big granite walls, pine needle covered floors, and the sound of waterfalls. We still dream the dream.

Being a parent doesn't mean that we stopped having a life. It doesn't mean that we aren't the same people. I mean...we aren't the same people, but we want the same things and we are struggling to reconcile who we are and what we want. We need to figure out how to reconcile those two things. And so, as my husband is off doing that military thing across the country for a few months I have been preparing to refind all those beautiful things that I love and that got stuffed away when I started having kids. Not that my life ended, but that I put some things on hold so that I could be with my kids for the first year of their lives. Because while I no longer want to be super stay at home home, I do want to have these memories. I want my kids to get all the mom they want, no work to interfere, in the first year. I know that for my sanity though, I need to have my kids go to school. Maybe I'll be an 80% stay at home mom, take a few clients as I see fit, but also, I want to get back to the things that I love and those things are a part of having my kids. I want to share those things with my kids, but if I walk away permanently from them, then I can't share those things with my kids. I am investing in myself, and my kids, by getting back to what I love. To keep myself from missing my husband too much I am going to get back to hiking, running, photography, I'm going to keep teaching my son to fish (maybe we'll use real bait this year), I'm going to make my daughter's first doll, play my guitar until my fingers bleed, I'm going to invest in myself and the things that I am passionate about. Because that is investing in the 2 people I am most passionate about: my kids.

ps. When hubs get back, we'll have to make sure he is investing in the things that he is passionate about too. Maybe he'll chill out a bit...a girl can dream.

0'Dark30

You have got to be kidding me. Its what time? Go back to sleep kid. Shh...whisper, if you wake your baby sister...okay, I'm up let's go into the living room. Where are daddy's sweat pants? Got it. That's a wall. Okay, here is some non expired yogurt and granola. How do I work my Keurig again...? Let me dump my oats and raisins into this bowl, add water, microwave for 3 minutes...baby is still asleep. Here's Netflix on the Nook, now let mommy get her 30 minute work out in before baby sister wakes up...fuck! Okay, pause and dash. Change baby, love on her, dress her...why does this onesie have so many snaps!? Remote out of toddler reach, oats on the table baby in left arm (the only arm her highness will permit me to carry her in), where's my water? Oh, got it. At least I can sit and have a relaxing breakfast...you shouldn't stand on the stool (queue screaming), that's why.

This, this is every freaking day of my life. This is what it looks like to try to be wonder woman.

My child is doing something in the other room that sounds...like there's no sound and therefore needs immediate attention...legos, right, where are my shoes?

This is what it looks like. I can barely believe I function and I'm in utter awe that my kids are still alive and my precious dog hasn't run away. No joke, he puts up with a lot.

There's a lot of talk about how moms need to take care of themselves first. Can't take care of anyone else if you are run down. Right?

Toddler made a noise...legos and we're wearing the infant insert for the Ergo as a hat...

Self care...the problem is that we approach motherhood with this belief that our self care must come in a block of time set aside each day for us to just be...us. To find our peace and our center. But then...BAM, reality hits you right in the face. Your exhausted, can't remember when I showered last, do I even have toothpaste for these teeth, face. Seriously, get some freaking toothpaste, your teeth are furry. You can't remember your name much less how to achieve some sense of self and peace. And that block of time? When is that going to happen? Right...as the new proud daddy freaks the hell out because the baby cries if it's not with you...uh-huh.

Welcome to motherhood. Now let's have a real chat about what self care really looks like.

At some point during my day I will finish that 30 minutes of working out. When? I can't say. I will try again whenever the opportunity arises. Even if that's after both kids are in their own beds, asleep. It WILL happen. I have a cup of cold coffee on my stove. I will drink it and it will be hot (okay warm) when I do. See its Sunday. And on Sundays we go to church. If you aren't church going people, rethink that right now. Its called free child care. They watch your kids while you sit in service, and in my case, sip on my warm coffee. Rethink it, seriously. You get to sit down and be undisturbed. Its lovely. My dog? He will get a walk. My toddler loves to take the dog for a walk and my leash is meant to attach to your waist. So he has it around his waist, leash clipped to dog, baby in Ergo, and the center of the leash is in my hand. Its kind of perfect. So, endorphins from the walk, more endorphins from the work out, caffeine from the coffee...I can make it through this day. Oh and there's nap time. Think I'm kidding? My toddler will go down for a nap despite his best efforts to fight me on this. He has yet to win. He wins with his dad, but not me. My dog will get fed...soon in fact. He will get fed, I will get the tiny toddler monster on the potty, dressed, and shod.

I know you're thinking that at least when my husband gets home I'll get some reprieve. Wrong! My husband will be home...sometime tomorrow. I'll get to see h for a day and a halfish and then he's gone again. My reprieve is that some times, while he is at work, we can visit him for dinner. Where he parents and I get to eat a meal with two free hands. That's my exciting reprieve. When my husband is home he does help out. But then I am not just a mom. Then, I am a wife too. And that's it's own can of worms.

I just remembered that I was going to be super mom and make blueberry muffins for breakfast.

See, self care isn't about a chunk of time set aside. At least, not when you're a mom to small children. Its about finding time to do things that help you function at your best. Like coffee, working out, sitting down for a minute. I read books in 10 minute increments because when my husband is home, I go hide in the car with a book for 10 minutes. Sometimes, I drive to the beach and read. (The beach is 2 minutes away).

Okay, back to being Wonder Mom.