Friday Fun Day!

What a special day! I know most of the world is still celebrating Kate & Wills, but in our house something else was more important today.
Sesame Place opened! I was told by a friend that Member's Preview Night was awesome last year. Hardly any lines for rides or food, and lots of opportunities to really play with the characters.
What a difference a year makes, because apparently everyone else had the same idea as us! It was a mad house, but I did get a few good pictures!











And this my friends, is why I need a drink tonight?

Tiaras and Shinguards

When I was pregnant with Mo, I didn't know that she was a she. I did know, however thanks to some graduate work in gender studies, that I would do everything within my power to prevent her to falling into the Princess trap. Read here or here I did not want her to sit around waiting for Prince Charming, I wanted her to get out there and live it up! In those terms, I guess for me it meant sports. I wanted her to be the athlete, not the girlie girl, cleats over high heels.
Guess what?
It backfired... a bit.
I tried to skip the Princess thing. I cringed when strangers (or some family members) would refer to her as "the Princess". I avoided showing her any of the Disney movies until very recently when Snow White was on the tv. That is easy now courtesy of Pixar. Then somehow "Princess" became part of her lexicon. She HAD to have princess panties, even though she didn't even know who most of the princesses were. She HAD to have the Cinderella book at the dollar store, and begs to use the Princess bowl and plate every day.
What did I do wrong? How did this happen?
Damn you Disney and all your "Happily Ever After"!
I had an epiphany of sorts yesterday. I guess I had always been dealing with absolutes, when in the case of princesses and sports, it doesn't have to be. She can wear her princess panties under her soccer uniform. She doesn't have to make the choice one over the other, especially at three years old. She can wear a tiara one moment and play with her soccer girls the next.
It would be a mis-truth if I admitted that I am comfortable now with all the Princess paraphernalia, I still prefer sports, but I'll be a little less neurotic about it.
Just don't call her Princess in front of me! Why settle? I prefer Queen Mo!

Swim

The Topic: recall something in your life that seemed terrible at the time, but looking back, brought you something wonderful. A positive from a negative experience.

I look at the clock
5:40 am.
I don't have to let the alarm go off, because like always, I am up. My body knows the drill. Every Tuesday and Thursday morning, throw on a pair of sweats and the Smurf blue parka and walk across the empty quiet campus to the side door of the Natatorium.
The smell of chlorine hits like a punch in the face as I walk across the pool deck. The water lies still, a strangely eerie shade of blue in front of me. Down the dingy stairway into the locker room I walk. Stripping down into my practice suit, I grab my cap and trusty black goggles, and head back up the stairs. My teammates trickle in, following the same path as I and together we meet on deck. Some curl up on the floor, attempting to catch one last minute of sleep, while others like meet, just stare aimlessly into the blank pool.
6:00 on the dot, I dive in.
So goes four long years of college, spent in a cocoon of chlorinated water swimming lap after lap, hour after hour, going no where.
Why did I do this?
Why did I walk on to a Division one team?
Why did I stick with it?
At 16, I remember that moment.
I could feel my heart sink as they introduced Her as a member of the National team. She had always been just a little bit better then me and received the accolades and attention I so desired. I took my hands and starting wringing them into the folds of my blue striped skirt as I anticipated the car ride home, knowing the details on the pending conversation since my mom and I had had it before. I stabbed my pasta with the fork and tried to casually finish my dinner without making any eye contact with my mom. I could have been better, maybe even great, if I had been given the same amount of attention. Instead, I decided at that moment, I was done. Instead of putting any energy into getting their approval, I would wait and see what I could accomplish on my own.
Four years later, I stand on the block, and look to my left. She is there, no longer a teammate, but now an opponent. The 500 yard freestyle, an event I had swam hundreds of times before, but never with the urgency I feel now. My stomach is turning and my legs are jelly. I take a deep breath in, and step up onto the block making sure to glance over at Her one time.
I can do it.
I grab the block and as the buzzer goes off and I dive into the water. The next five plus minutes are a blurr, except for the last 15 yards. I look to my side and she is no where to be seen. My thighs are burning as I kick as hard as I can, gasping with each breath as I come closer to the final touch. I throw my head down, forgoing breath to make it to the end and slam my hand into the wall. Lifting my head I look to my left.
She is not there.
No, she is still swimming.
I beat her.
I beat her well.
It was worth it, all of it was worth it.

Easter, Sunny Easter

Dear Jesus,
I apologize for our absence today at Mass.
I know it is a big day, the biggest day on the Catholic calendar and attendance is a must, so I am truly sorry. We decided instead of squeezing into an overcrowded Church to thank you for your greatest sacrifice, we would celebrate this day as a family at the beach. In my humble opinion, the beach is one of Your greatest accomplishments, next to creating Human Beings and then the whole resurrection.
You truly blessed us with a stunning spring day, filled with white puffy clouds and a crisp blue sky, making the time on the boards beautifully breathtaking. This day will be one of those days we will look back upon and remember as being perfect.

Thank you for blessing me with two stunning and fantastically awesome daughters, parents and in laws who truly love and respect me, sisters (yes, you Coll) and a brother who deeply care, extended family and friends that have repeatedly been their for me, and finally a husband who is my soul mate.
We will be back in our usual pew next week, and I promise we won't miss Christmas services and I'll work on the all the other Holy days.
(Though I do think I do get a few Brownie points for handling Palm Sunday with the entire Passion reading with Mo alone last week!)
Your faithful servant,
Jackie

Light & Fluffy

I know, I write some heavy stuff on here. Being a mother of little girls in this big bad world sometimes gets me thinking those deep thoughts.
That's not today! Today, I'm thinking, more so drooling over my new jeans. Since I've had my second kid, I have had a love hate relationship with my body. I love my body because it has successfully managed to sustain life, twice and not only that, continued to keep life alive for 13 months after birth, a la the boobs.
The hate part, well that's a story I think most women can commiserate with. My body is a train wreck, plain and simple. Stretchmarks on top of stretchmarks + one sagging c-section belly = a royal pain in the ass finding clothes.
I know I don't look like I did in college. I do, however want to look a little more put together and I'm trying.
A few weeks ago a great site Haute Look had a plethora of jeans on for deep discount. Now, if you're like me, bigger then a size ten in need of jeans that cover more then the bottom part of your ass, then your search may be over.
Not Your Daughter's Jeans claim to be the "most uplifting jeans ever" and I have to agree. I bought one pair and am kicking myself for not getting more! My butt hasn't looked this good in clothes in a long, long time!
Between these new jeans and the few new spring shirts I picked up at Banana Republic, Gap, & Athleta (thank you Banana credit card!) I think I may actually have a few outfits to wear in the event we go out somewhere where sweats and/or yoga pants aren't acceptable!
What a great Friday!
Feel Free to Join Me!

Red Writing Hood - My first time!

Dear Fear,
You are banished.
You are over,
done,
finished.
No longer will I tolerate your presence in my life.
I have wasted too much of my life on you and too much of her life. That first neurotic moment I permitted you to permeate my brain, the moment she was placed in my arms, I have never been the same.
You are to blame here.
Because of you, I lost the first few months of really getting to know my little girl. Because of you, I was but a shadow of what I truly am.
Why did I think you were right? What lack of faith did I possess in myself? How could I really think I wasn't worthy, I wasn't good enough, I couldn't be there for her?
Why did I let you overtake me?
I am back. My confidence is back, my life is back as my own.
Why?
Because I said so and I am in charge now.
I am strong, stronger then I have ever been because she deserves a mother.
Post-partum depression has been this heavy burden I have carried alone these months. The fear that I would damage this beautiful, perfect person became so great that I never got to enjoy motherhood. I would put up the facade with those around me, play the part of the doting mother, while this fear would leave me clinging for something.
I am not alone anymore and I don't need to hide this fear. I have support, I have family, and I have faith.
Good riddance!

The Topic: write a formal complaint letter to your deepest, darkest fear, either fiction or non-fiction Please be kind and use kid gloves! This is my first attempt.

Wordless Wednesday