I’m At A Loss

If you’re a regular follower of my mommy blog, you’ll probably be thinking, “Where the hell is she? Why hasn’t she posted? And like, why hasn’t her content been that great?”

First of all, back off. My life is busy, m’kay!?

I know I’d be confused if I were you. I have a little voice among mommy bloggers worldwide, and to be honest, I’m struggling to find my “angle”.

Do I want to talk about products for moms? Not really. Do I want to provide tips and tricks to new parents? Nah, I’m equally unqualified for this gig. Do I want to complain about all the things that every mom likes to complain about online every. damn. day? Kinda, but only when I really need to vent.

I’d love to go back to basics and really just use this space as a place to journal the day-to-day of my life as a mom. Boring, I know, but cathartic.

Some people have talked to me about how they enjoy the honesty, the rawness, and the humour behind my posts, and since that’s the positive feedback I’ve been receiving, that’s what I’d like to focus on. Screw affiliate marketing, product plugging, and helpful tips that mom can share with each other. While those have the most potential to be shared, turn profitable, and “go viral”. It’s not me. It’s fake, and a load of bologna. To be honest, I’m not sure who I am and what I even want anymore.

Pfft, priorities. Being a mom has really plugged up my upward grind.

My background is in marketing, but do I want to continue down that path? I’m not quite sure. Frankly, I find the marketing world to be full of bullshit and I’m becoming a tad jaded towards it all. While I love the idea of making money from it, I find the pressure of executing it to be an extra layer of stress to add my my already overloaded pot of nerves.

It’s a life that I’m slowly discovering that I no longer want and so, I am now on a path to try and discover what I do want. All I really know is that I’m a mother with a drive to succeed, but that’s not all I am.

Right now my absence from this site has primarily been because I just haven’t got the time or energy to crank out a blog, given the fact that I spend my days at the computer writing articles for an entertainment website. It’s not exactly fulfilling, but it pays the bills (most of the time).

All that to say, when I want to focus on my own project, I just can’t bring myself to the keyboard once my article quota has been fulfilled.

The second reason I’ve been absent has been because I just don’t know what I want to write about or share. I have many ideas for blog posts, and my day is definitely not without an entertaining story to tell, but I’m lacking a direction.

I feel like a bird without a nest and I’ve totally been having a bit of an identity crisis.

What do I like? What do I even want to do? Who am I, really?

*Cue Zoolander duck face, staring inquisitively into a pool of water*

Quite honestly, I feel like I’m drowning in the unknown.

To compensate, I’ve been attending events and get-togethers around the city – meeting with moms and professionals alike – to try and find a shred of inspiration to put me on a life path.

I’ve never really been one to ask for help, but that’s exactly what I’m looking for right now. I need to read all the things, hear all the advice, and be given a few words of wisdom to take the next step from marketer to mom boss.

As a mom (and a perfectionist), asking for help is something that does not come easy for me. What I’d love to know from… anyone, is if you’ve ever struggled to find your thing, if being a parent has ever thrown you off your path (if you have kids), and what steps you took to figure out what you want out of life (or if being a parent completely derailed you from it).

I’m the mom who wholeheartedly believes that she can “have it all”; family and career.

I just need a little push in the right direction, because I just can’t seem to muster the navigation on my own.

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From Marketing to Motherhood

Being a mom is a great part of my life. It’s new, fun, adventurous, but this beautiful job is not a career and it’s certainly not fulfilling my desire to succeed, nor does it make me feel accomplished.

To bring these thoughts out in the open may seem harsh or insensitive to sahm’s or women who dream of conceiving, but to me it’s something I feel like I have to keep my mouth shut about and fake the fullness that children are supposed to bring to my life.

When you become a mom, the world starts to believe that this was your sole purpose. Consider ‘Mom’ to be your only title from here on out. Everything else in your life – career, friends, alone time – is just part of a support system to aide in your primary mission of being the best mom you can be. You may go to work or do something for yourself, but society wants us to feel guilty about it.

I love my daughters, but there is a big part of me that misses my old working life. And no amount of nursery rhymes, baby milestones, or cooking meals for my children will ever replace that.

In the last few months, I have been earning a living through freelance writing. It keeps the food on their high chairs and the shoes on their feet, but it’s not enough. For me, anyways.

Since early spring, I’ve been taking my time to apply to places that are looking for my professional background, experience, and education. I have no problem making it through to the interview phase, and yet the opportunities continue to go nowhere.

I am not ashamed of being a mom and so it will inevitably come up when I start discussing my life and current work. I don’t let the fact that I have children affect what I do. I have help and time and the ability to continue on with my career. Although, I can’t help but think that being a mother is a factor when potential employers are sifting through would-be hires.

Before I had babies, finding work was never an issue. I’m driven, experienced, and can give a good interview. But now it is a struggle.

The only thing that’s changed is the fact that I’m a mother.

Even the opportunities I do get are directed at women who are home with the kids; writing for baby websites and baby products.

I’ll say it again. I’m not ashamed of my children, but it makes me wonder if it’s even worth mentioning during the interview process.

I am capable of much more than being a mom. I pursued a life in marketing and paid good money for that dream to become a reality. The student debt still hangs over me and will be there for a long time. I owe it to my education and life to succeed in the field I am good at.

But it’s not about the money. Our bills are paid and we live comfortably.

It’s about the career. It’s about the passion and the work and the sense of accomplishment. It’s about the company culture and deadlines and clients. It’s about the stress and job well done. It’s about so much more than a salary.

It’s about being fulfilled as a person, and not as a mom.

Employers. Please don’t pigeonhole me for being fertile.

In fact, don’t discriminate against any hardworking, career-oriented mothers. Women are great at multitasking and we’re more than capable of juggling a career and children. Give us a shot. I’m sure we’ll all surprise you.

On a lighter note, this has opened up a new opportunity for me, one that is directed at giving up on finding employment and taking the reigns to create it. That’s right.

I am (slowly) looking to start my own business in providing content marketing services.

It may sound exciting and admirable, but the truth is that I’m terrified to take that step. To sacrifice security and comfort and to attempt something that could fail is something I have to constantly convince myself of being the right decision.

It’s a thought that I have abandoned and resurrected about a hundred times.

All that to say, sometimes us hardworking moms just need to create our own opportunities, and many already have.

To those who don’t let motherhood define them, you’re a rock star. Email me and let me know how you managed to take that next step for you and your family.

Get What’s Yours: 11 Things That Are Just For Me

When you’re a mom who’s home with the babies all. day. long, it’s easy to believe that your life has been taken hostage by the tiny people who can’t even walk or talk yet. You give everything to the little thumb-suckers and it makes you believe that you have no life, no friends, and nothing left that’s yours.

How wrong we all are to think such nonsense!

Sure, your bed is still the sanctuary and oasis it’s been since the kids were born, but now everything from your meals to your sanity seems as if it was taken from you. Even your sense of time is robbed. Like, I don’t even know what day it is unless I have a bill due. My girls will be one year old soon and I feel like they just slid out of me a couple of months ago.

This sense of removal from everything you love and hold close to you – aside from your children, of course – is a hell of a lot to come to terms with. But we haven’t lost it all, moms. In order to keep ourselves from crushing our own identities, we should remember what is truly ours and cling to it like the climbing monkeys our babies are.

I do a lot for my babies, but I also do a lot for myself without even realizing it. Instead of wallowing in the memories of hitting the gym or hitting up happy hour, I’m choosing to look at what I enjoy, aside from getting giggles from my pups.

Coffee
1

When the girls are asleep in their car seats and Mama’s heading home, there’s no moment that compares to driving through the Starbs window and ordering a half-sweet dirty chai. Mmm, this indulgence is well deserved.

8:00 – 11:00 pm2

Between the hours of 8pm and 11pm, this time is all mine. I can do whatever I want, whether that means getting my thrills from the simplicities of a hot shower, cozy pjs, and cuddling during a stream of TOSH.O, or flying solo on a trip to Costco. WOOOOO!

Vanilla Body Wash3

I don’t spend too much time primping myself anymore. Mom buns, majorly-chipped nail polish, and stubbly legs are my new normal. But when I get in that shower and pop open my vanilla body wash, I feel like a new woman! One that takes the time to indulge in beauty and luxury.

Netflix Queue4

Let’s line ’em up. What’ll it be tonight? The Mindy Project, Nashville, Gilmore Girls, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, or Once Upon A Time? Doesn’t matter, they’re all my guilty pleasures, for my entertainment only, and are SO FAR FROM NURSERY RHYMES I COULD DANCE WITH GLEE. Only I don’t dance. Too tired.

Doing Groceries5

I do love me some fresh produce, samples, and the freedom that our local food mart provides. Until you become a parent, you’ll never understand how much joy this daily outing can bring to your life. Food is life, and among it you’ll find bliss… and chocolate and ice cream.

Skyrim6

Fully charged controller? Check. Fuzzy blanket? Check. Beer? Check! Let’s do this. When there is nothing in my way – no deadlines, no sports games, and no demanding infants – I take to the PS4 and commit myself for TWO WHOLE HOURS (or more, if I’m lucky!) to conquering caves, dragons, and quests. The mental break and escape from reality that this game provides rivals a long-forgotten pleasure: shopping with a disposable income!

Radio Privileges7

Babies can’t drive. Babies can’t talk. Therefore, they have no say and no opinion on whether they want to listen to my Adele CD or JACK FM or the Across The Universe soundtrack. Cry all you want, you’re gonna fall asleep anyways.

Instagram8

Since I love my girls so much, I can’t help but share them with the world. Yes, I know, proud mommy here. But really, I’m getting my jollies from building up my audience for this blog, and I don’t care who knows it! Not only that, but I love the detachment of wasting time scrolling through the lives of others. Oooo, that fancy restaurant looks amazing! That deep-fried thing also looks great! Honestly, I mostly look at food and babies.

Candy Crush9

This has been a thing for me pre-twins. I’ll never let it go, and I’ll never apologize for it. Send me more lives, people!

Writing10

This blog is all mine. Muah ha ha! It’s my outlet, my punching bag, and my confidante. I love it and it…hates me sometimes because I often ignore it, but it always forgives.

Barre + Cycle
11

A super new thing that’s mine is this very weird, but very tough, fitness trend – barre. I normally hate working out, especially since becoming so burnt out from baby-wrangling I can barely walk, but this might work out. I don’t know. For the next 30 days, I’m committing myself and will try to push aside the guilt of leaving the girls to do something for me. The June 30 Day Challenge is a super big thing that I just learned about at The Dailey Method (in the Glebe). Um, and can someone please join me so that I don’t do this alone? Wah!

So, those are my things. Aaaaand it makes me super happy to remember them all during the long and tiring, teething, and growing toddler days.

What are your things? I chose 11 because that’s the date of my girls’ 1st birthday, next month! But, I’d really love to hear any number of mom things.

Take control of your things!

Facts About Motherhood: #58

Fact #58: Motherhood is boring.

It’s never fun to admit something that you’re supposed to keep a secret. Like, the fact that you have hemorrhoids or a third nipple.

There are so many secrets that mom’s won’t admit to that it actually adds more stress to keep the thoughts all bottled up. There is never a good time for moms to confess every thought or worry they had. If we did, we’d be sent to our guilt graves. Or we’d be looking at an epic novel, and not the short and loose dialogue I like to share with you all.

One thing that nobody ever tells you about becoming a mother is how boring it is. Oy, it’s mind-numbing. The moment you have a baby (or two!) is the moment that you enter a black hole of repetition, routines, and lack of spontaneity.

Hey, I’m not knocking down parenthood. There are plenty of joys that come along with raising infants, such as… well, baby giggles are nice. And teaching them things like the word “no” is kind of rewarding, too. All I’m saying is that the load of expectations of what motherhood is like should be busted open like Pandora’s Box.

Here it is, ladies. Motherhood in all it’s glory.

You’re gonna be bored AF sometimes.

Every day is the same cycle of tasks: waking up at the crack of dawn, washing the same dishes and onesies, playing with the same toys, changing the same bums, infinite nursery rhymes. Add the precise moment your toddler starts whining and you won’t even have to look at the clock to know you’re entering their afternoon fuss time.

Now, there ARE things to help you to keep your sanity in check while your little ones examine and toss the same damn toys around. For example, I like to vent about it online. Some moms like to work out. I don’t have such mom friends, but I imagine I’d hate them encourage them to maintain their interests.

Doing anything for yourself when your infants turn into toddlers with ‘tudes will make you feel a lot of feels, especially guilt. Even right now, I could be playing with my girls, but instead I’m doing this. While deep down I know the benefits of doing something for myself, I can’t help but feel like I’m neglecting them. And what’s more annoying is that they’re becoming smart enough to know that. The moment I open my laptop is the moment they start crying out, “Mama!”

 

Mom Boredom should be as much of a well-known term as Mom Guilt; both go hand-in-hand and can suck the pre-mom personality out of you faster than a bottle of wine.

Mom boredom can affect you so much that when you finally are gifted with a break, you simply can’t handle the freedom. You stay close to home and feel like a prisoner finally being released into the wild. This is why so many moms flock to Walmart and Target in their down time – it’s the least likely task that will generate guilt by spending time by yourself. “I’m buying diapers, damn it! I’m still thinking of my babies. Just leave me alone to walk every aisle for the third time!”

Being bored when you’re childless is like being bummed by the fact that you’re lazy and uncreative. Or hating the fact that you have way too much time to relax.

Being bored when you’re a mom means talking to yourself because you can’t talk on the phone with your girlfriends ’cause your baby won’t let you. It means dressing your babies up in endless outfits and taking dozens of photos just to make the hour go by faster. It means eagerly volunteering to go buy milk (or literally anything) the moment your partner comes home from work. “We desperately need more pepper – out of my way!” It means becoming socially awkward because you’ve been lacking in all forms of communication, other than social media. Being a bored mom means that you seriously consider turning to, ugh, Pinterest for things to do.

Nah thanks. I’ll stick to complaining online.

Stripped

The other night was probably the worst night I’ve ever faced since becoming a parent. When I say it was the worst, I may even be downplaying the description of how this night went down.

After surviving the first few months of newborn madness and round-the-clock feedings and diaper changes to two infants, we began to see the light and enter some sort of nighttime routine. We endured the first nights in their own room, their first colds, and the cutting of their first teeth. Even the blur of sleepless months we first experienced when the girls arrived at home was nothing compared to what we faced three nights ago.

At around 2:30 am, we awoke to the sounds of coughing and gagging. Drowsy from the noise we continue to listen and then jolt out of bed at the additional sounds of vomit splashing against little Chloe’s bed linens and crib bars.

For those of you who don’t know, we put up with eight months of spit-up from our girls and they had finally outgrown this nasty, annoying, laundry-soaking phase. What we discovered was NOT the spit-up we knew and trusted.

What we faced was not only a massive amount of partially-digested vomit, but also a sad and smelly Chloe, paired with the most rotten scent we’ve ever encountered in our pre and post-baby lives. If I had to describe the smell, I would file it next to old Kraft Dinner that was prepared with spoiled milk and then fermented for a month.

We immediately took action; me grabbing the baby, and JD grabbing the soaked sheets while suppressing his own urge to gag. The bed and baby were both stripped. My shirt and hair had vomit in it from Chloe’s need to cuddle her spewage-slathered face into my chest. BLEH!

The next four hours Chloe and I stayed up to watch cartoons as she fought her stomach to puke again, as well as fight her need to sleep. Every time she almost fell asleep, she would startle herself awake and begin to cry. Nightmare.

If you thought that was the worst of the night, you’d be wrong.

At 6 am, I hear Sophie begin to wake up. The normal time, but I was just not ready to face the regular morning routine. I waited fifteen minutes before going to check on her, when she began to get annoyed and whine for attention.

I finally visit her and get hit in the face with an even fouler smell. Could it be that the vomit stench remained in the room? I open the blinds and look at my daughter.

POOP. EVERYWHERE.

POOP ON EVERY BAR OF THE CRIB.

POOP ON HER BLANKETS.

POOP ON HER ONESIE.

POOP ON HER LEGS.

POOP ON MY SOUL.

She had the most extreme case of diahrrea I had ever witnessed. Even from myself.

I could not deal with the scene before me. So I scooped her up, put her in the bathtub with her onesie and diaper still on, and woke up my better half to help me cope with my emotions, which at this point were running as wild as Sophie’s sphincter.

After I scrubbed the feces from her body, I grabbed a rag and a shred of strength I had left on reserve and went to assess the bedroom damage.

As I stripped a second bed of its linens and began to scrub the mattress, I began to hysterically laugh-cry. Not laugh to the point of crying, but I simultaneously experienced two emotions at once: bawling my eyes out and laughter.

I peed myself. And then I stripped off my vomit and piss-covered pj’s and went on with being a parent.

The beds were stripped. The girls and I were stripped. All I have left to strip is the horrific memories of the night from my mind.

Baby, It’s Cold Outside

I don’t know much about babies, but mine seem to get bored easily. In the daily debate of who gets to do what, their restlessness is a constant counter to my laziness and always is the winning argument.

While circulating through the same routine every day, they never last more than 15 minutes on an activity before getting mad at me. Simply for not knowing they’re bored again. One minute they’re happily playing, and the next they’re soooo over it.

Just because you babies grew from my insides does not mean I can read your tiny minds!

In my attempt to satisfy their cravings for constant excitement and spontaneity, I’ve discovered that they’re happiest away from home than in it. I know it’s because everywhere we go they’re treated like mini celebrities. They love meeting their adoring fans, signing autographs, and getting their photo taken. And since we live in this beautifully vicious country that is Canada, this really tests my desire to hermit.

Schlepping two babies around in the winter is exhausting. All I want to do when it’s cold outside is cuddle with them and binge Netflix, but try taming a squirmy infant.

AND THEY’RE AT THE MOST AWKWARD AGE EVER.

They can’t walk, but have the personality that lets you know you’re their bitch and have to carry their tiny asses to the car. They can’t talk, but with one look you can tell they’re judging the crap out of you for being lazy. They won’t cuddle, but will whine until you pick them up, just so they can claw at your eyeballs and climb up your body a la King Kong.

I’m not going to list the ways we need to prep to get the babes from the house to the car, but it’s extensive. And even though it’s minus 15 degrees, by the time you get them to the car you’re a sweaty mess. Mom tip: just stick to a disheveled bun and relatively clean face when you leave the house. With twins, spending time on hair or make-up during ANY season is an indulgence. Just like the doughnuts you cram into your face the moment you find the closest Tim’s.

There are not many places you can bring a double stroller to in the winter. Forget about the niche-y book or clothing stores or trendy coffee shops. Forget about the park, walking paths, or any outdoor hobby. And you can forget about taking them to any fun place for children, because they’re lumps. The only options you have are malls and major department stores, like IKEA or Canadian Tire. “Baby want some new wiper blades?”

Unless you’re my offspring and it’s two votes against one, there is no way I will leave the house during winter. These twinfants keep me from hibernating like the mama bear I am. They get me off the couch, out of sweats and into yoga pants, and moving towards civilization. I am a vertical member of society – and an unenthusiastic contributor to big-box income – because of their motivational whines.

Winter can bite my cellulite-ridden ass.

Just Do It

“Wow. Twins. How do you DO it?”

Somehow having twins makes you really popular and you make lots of new, random street friends with lots of opinions. Aside from the opinions no mother wants about simply raising one child, you get double the input with twins.

I’m asked many repetitive questions about #twinlife, like “Are they twins?”, “How old are they?” and “Can I touch them?” I am also asked the “How do you do it?” question a lot. And I never have any answer, even though they’re kind of being rhetorical about it.

Family & friends? A helpful spouse? Eating cookies in the closet?

When I really thought of an answer, all I could come up with is you just DO. I don’t think there’s a twin mama out there that knows how its done. You just have no choice. This is your life. These are your children. You can’t wallow. You don’t take a moment to think, “Motherf***er! This is stressful. How DO I DO it?” Because if you do, you unravel. Your focus crumbles. Your ability to mom is interrupted.

Raising twins is the biggest marathon you’ll ever run. If you stop to look around and catch your breath, you’ll forever be playing catch-up.

Determination and willpower. These are two key ingredients to keeping you on your feet and hurling you towards being the best twin mom you can be.

But what if you’re a twin mom who’s also trying to get fit? Finding a little leftover determination or willpower is like finding a four-leaf clover! So at the end of the day you eat that pizza, drink the wine, and sit on your widening ass, because there ain’t much more determination or willpower left in the tank. And you go to bed happy and proud knowing you survived another day.

Only 6,311 days until graduation.