Surviving

Finding Distractions

~ Kara Mills ~ Leave a comment

My last two years are probably similar to what most people have experienced. Isolation, mental health roller coasters, new hobbies and time wasted on rabbit holes of mindless content online. I realized the other day that I did not write a single post in 2021. Maybe I was hoping that by not posting I could pretend that the evil twin of 2020 never existed. It wasn’t intentional, I do love writing. At one point I felt that sharing the challenges of being a working mom married to someone in medicine was an experience worth writing about. I found it therapeutic and felt that there was so much to say. I was struggling to find the right balance of wanting to grow in my career while supporting the insanely demanding career of a medical student and resident. Oh, and have kids too. Lots of them.

I had last posted that I was changing my perception of things, and to some degree I did. I lowered my bar. I’m not saying that pessimistically. I lowered it for what I felt was an acceptable reason given the current state of the world. For now, we are working on thriving while surviving. I began giving myself more grace. Are the kids healthy? Yup. Are they managing to not fall behind in school? Yup. Do we still have jobs? Yup. Ok, feels pretty successful to me.

Once I got to that point, I shifted to figuring out what I needed to begin thriving. I started with my mental health and focused on the depression and anxiety I’ve had my entire adult life. Instead of just dealing with it, I began speaking with a therapist and focusing on each piece of the puzzle. After that, I realized I needed something for me, a hobby. I love art but I do not have a dedicated space to paint and draw where little hands will not “assist”. Since I didn’t bake sourdough or get a quarantine pet, I decided to take up crocheting. True to my distractible nature, I have a lot of “works in progress” but have managed to finish a few things. Either way, it’s been a great distraction for me and for the most part, the kids leave it alone and I can take it with me when we’re running all over the place.

In addition to crocheting while surviving, I began digging into our ancestry again. Thankfully a few of hubs family members have records, pictures and stories they’ve shared along the way that I’ve been able to use while building out our family tree on ancestry.com. I was able to find pretty solid information several generations back for almost every branch of our family tree which was a fun distraction. I mean, it’s not pretty looking (I keep telling myself I’ll organize it better when I retire), but it’s made for some cool conversations.

Most notably, was learning about my maternal great-grandpa. For as long as I can remember, we never really talked about him, kind of like Bruno. My grandma never really elaborated about her father, and we knew not to push. All we were ever told was that my great-grandma died in a car accident and then he moved away. My grandma did not learn of his death until years later, but with very limited information. The family lore was that he died on an island somewhere. Having grown up in a small town where our entire family was basically born and raised, that sounded so exotic. I figured it had to be Hawaii or some other US island. My grandma, one of the most risk adverse people I knew, had to have gotten that trait from her parents. Right? Surely there are no adventurous genes in this lineage. Boy, we were in for quite a surprise. It began with an email from a previously unknown distant cousin in Scotland. It took the trajectory of our search halfway around the world and as of now has left us with more questions than answers.

If you need a good distraction during this time, join me and my family as we unravel this mystery through coming blog posts. Maybe 2022 will be the year we figure out who my great-grandpa really was.

New Rules

~ Kara Mills ~ Leave a comment

We’re in day 5,054 of staying at home. Working from home while undertaking Spanish immersion kindergarten, entertaining a threenager, and reminding middle schoolers that video games do not constitute “technology learning” has been treacherous. I mean, it’s infinitely better than being intubated, but it’s not my lifelong dream.

I went from being a happy working mom who carted her kids to their respective destinations every morning, had a coffee, and adulted. Now, on a good day, I’m wrestling kids out of bed, herding cats kids until distance learning is done and they can join the wild west of activities we have at our house. I’m exhausted at the end of the day and adulting is of no interest. I had to learn to “let it go” (thank you Frozen for reminding me of that every day when it’s playing on repeat).  That song is stuck in your head now right?? Anyway, here are a few items we’ve decided or realized during this period of time.

  • Do you have screen time restrictions? Ha! That’s cute! Nope, there are none. It is survival of the fittest people. Unless you’re a kindergartener with an attitude, then you can be grounded from the iPad until your birthday…in July. Yes, it was that bad that I punished myself too.
  • Will you try potty training the threenager? No. HECK no! Why would I do that to myself?? I mean, if she goes, we celebrate. But I am not about to shadow this 3 year old to make sure she goes potty. I seldom remember to use the bathroom so how am I going to remind her?
  • Are you quarantining from hubs? Nope, so long as we remain healthy. We’re each others support system. He strips his clothes off in the garage and then washes them separately from our clothes. For the record, there have been no instances of him streaking through my conference calls. Yet.
  • Do you like working from home? YES!!! I LOVE it! I’m super productive. I mean, when I don’t have kids hanging on me. Literally. Ariah_ClingingThis work of art can be titled “I want to talk on your conference call” circa pandemic 2020.
  • Are you excited to be saving gas money? Yes, of course! It’s helped fund my new online ordering habit. Specifically Amazon. They have everything you need to get your home office in line. The most critical items have been a second monitor and a seat pad. Kitchen chairs are not meant to be sat on 40+ hours a week. Trust me.

Here’s the deal. I’ve had to turn my Type A off and be okay with just making it through each day. There are way bigger things happening in the world that make my stresses sound trivial. And they are trivial, relatively speaking. We are healthy, we have food and clothes and the kids, while bored, are happy. Once I decided that they will be fine if I am not a perfect parent/teacher/worker 100 percent of the time, life was a lot less stressful. Being a working mom is hard when it’s just work, so give yourself some grace and be okay if things are not perfect. We’re all in this together!

We Matched!

~ Kara Mills ~ Leave a comment

It’s a few days late but we got the email Monday at 9:58am CT that hubs matched! That means it’s either MI or MN that we will match to.

I was at work, unpacking because we were literally moving into our new HQ building that day. I called him because I am not the most patient person (shocker) and he read the email over the phone. It felt surreal. Honestly, it really didn’t even hit me until last night. And then, it was more exhausted relief than anything. No big crying and screaming fit I had always thought I would do. Perhaps that’s saved for later?

As I mentioned before, because it’s not stressful enough, they drag the waiting game out until this Friday. Ugh! So, stay tuned and I will (hopefully) be better about posting in a more timely fashion. Maybe I’ll have more to say about some kind of emotional outburst. Just hopefully nothing too embarrassing….

This is Why

~ Kara Mills ~ Leave a comment

As the mother of a toddler, not a day goes by where I don’t hear “why?”. Every request is countered with the question, “why?”. Every statement, “why?”. All. The. Time. Of course I get to the point where my only response is “because I said so!” with far too much exasperation in my voice. These last few weeks have made me often wonder “why?”.

For starters, why did the plague hit our house…wait for it…the week of hubs exams?? Because that’s how we roll, that’s why. What fun would exam week be if there was not violent vomiting and explosive diarrhea to share? We’re apparently a loving family, we share everything….even those trifling germs. It hit nana, the toddler, and even hubs (thankfully his was after exams). Then tween 1 went down next, sent home from school merely days after finishing his first ever musical- thank you Jesus for holding that out!

So, that takes us to tween 2. First night parenting solo while hubs is away on a new rotation and he’s got a low grade fever. No biggie right? Get some ibuprofen and lots of water and he’ll be back to new in no time. Well, by 6pm it was clear the fever was lingering and the meds were keeping it at bay. Since asthma is always our first concern with him, I had him sleeping in my room to keep and eye on him. When 10pm rolls around, he’s knocked out, fever is almost nonexistent and I head to bed.

Here’s where it gets crazy. Why did I wake up, out of a dead sleep 2 hours later to check on him?? No noises, he was sound asleep. I felt his head and knew the fever had returned. Upon taking his temp, I knew we had a problem. The first time read 105.0. I couldn’t believe it so it took it again, several times- 103.3, 104.8, 104.4, 105.0. You get the idea. Crazy enough, he woke up, was totally coherent and did not seem phased by the high fever. A trip to the ER, quick triage, and we’re home with a diagnosis of Influenza A.

So, why did I wake up and check on him? Honestly, that’s all God. Some may say a “Mother’s instinct” but I can tell you, this mama was tired and I’m not one to wake and function like that. That was all God.

Why did he not have any side effects from a fever that high? I mean, I would have expected lethargy, confusion or even febrile seizures. Again, that’s God.

Why, with such a severe fever, was his asthma not affected- especially with influenza, which is known to wreak havoc on the respiratory system? If only I could share the crazy roller coaster of a ride we’ve had with his asthma- admits to the hospital, 911 calls, etc.- that would be a memoir on its own. A simple cold has landed him in the hospital for a few days stay. I have 2 reasons: first- you guessed it- God. Second, the flu vaccine. Thank GOD for modern medicine! The vaccine is not meant to prevent influenza, it’s meant to lessenthesymptoms and prevent death from influenza. It worked just as intended with him. I have no doubt that this particular strain could have caused immense turmoil on his lungs. Why do we all get the flu vaccine in our family? Because we want to protect those whose body may not be able to fight against the virus.

Why did I feel it necessary to share all of this info? Because God moved in a way that shook me to my core. He “took the wheel” and allowed me to care for my child. Something about our babies being in distress- whether they know it or not.

So, hug your babies, say a prayer of thanks, and get your flu vaccine! Why? Because I said so! 😉

I’m Not Your Friend

~ Kara Mills ~ Leave a comment

After moving to the new neighborhood, there’s been a time period of getting to know the neighbors and the nuances of life here. Everyone is friendly and it’s a quiet area. There are several boys around Aden’s age so he’s having fun making new friends and playing outside. However, I find in most cases, I’m the mean mom. You see, we have a few rules in our household. Maybe this makes me a little cray-cray but whatever. Some of it is dictated by Aden’s allergies (I don’t have him carry his epi-pen yet as I’m pretty sure he would think it was a toy to play with) and other are dictated by the fact that we’ve experienced crazy and are hoping to prevent any repeat incidents.

 

Here are the rules:

 

  • When school has started, you do not play outside until you have your homework done. If you “forgot” your homework at school, you’re out of luck. I bet you’ll remember it next time! And for all of the people freaking out that they “need their exercise”, they play outside all afternoon in their after school program. So they’re all sweaty and stinky by the time I pick them up and have had their share of fresh air.
  • If you’re fortunate enough to play outside after homework, do not keep coming in and out of the house. Unless you’re about to pee your pants, stay outside until you plan on staying inside. If I hear you come in more than once, that’s a wrap. We don’t need a bunch of flies in the house and you certainly do not need to feed the whole neighborhood all of the lunch snacks I have in the pantry. It’s almost dinner time anyway.
  • Speaking of dinner time, when I call you inside for dinner, you better hear me and you better listen the first time. I do not want to be that crazy mom who is running around the neighborhood in my not so nice lounge clothes looking for you. If that happens, consider it being docked in pay and you’re inside the next night. And don’t even ask to go outside after dinner!
  • Don’t ask me 50 times if you can play in Johnny’s house. You have about 1 hour to enjoy and that means enjoy it outside. I don’t know Johnny’s parents like that so, no, you cannot play over there. Heck, I don’t even know what house they live in. Stop asking or you’re coming inside.
  • If you have your homework done, you’ve stayed outside and you came in at dinner and didn’t ever ask to play at Johnny’s house, you may get a chance to go back outside after dinner….if the streetlights are not on. If they are, that’s a night and it’s time to take a shower (because you stink like the outside) and get ready for bed. If you argue, you lose tomorrow night.

 

So, these are the rules we use. Maybe I’m mean, but it’s what fits our family and our kids. So recently, one of the boys came over and asked Aden to play outside. He, knowing the rules, told them he had to finish homework and eat before he could come out. They were a little puzzled by this. Aden, being the child who challenges everything, pressed me about why his friends can do certain things and he cannot. “Because I’m not your friend. I am your mom. My job is to make sure you can follow rules, stay safe, and be respectful. It’s not changing so stop asking.” He rolled his eyes and groaned. My reply: “That’s fine. You can stay in tonight.” Hopefully someday he will learn. And hopefully it’s before he’s an adult when we can actually be more like friends….

Med School- Another Truth

~ Kara Mills ~ Leave a comment

With year 1 and 2 under our belt, and the third underway, I thought it was fitting to talk a little about the not so bright side of med school. This will be more of a “keepin it real” post- from my perspective as the wife. I think it’s important to share the ugly side of this process for the people that have comments or are critical about my lack of participation in activities. I want to fully explain what is going on and ask to be cut some slack for the next little while until my head can stop spinning. My feelings are not unusual. I say that from extensive discussions with spouses/partners of other med students and from a number of awesome online resources. I’m telling you, get some med school wives together and that is some for real camaraderie! The only other place I’ve experienced that was as a military wife!

I’ve been really hard on myself about how crazy our life has been. Hubs finished second year, spent a month out of state prepping for his board exam, we moved (because everyone loves moving- especially during the craziest summer ever) and he started rotations. Oh, and I am working and traveling too. It’s a lot of work. Unlike anything else I can imagine. We’ve been through a military deployment and that was not fun but also nothing like this. Not in a “med school is more difficulty kind of way”. I worried about him making it home alive from Iraq, I don’t have those fears now (thank goodness!). Now I worry about thing like hubs getting stuck with an HIV sharp while working (which is surprisingly more common than you would think).

I’ve talked in the past about the different aspects of med school- getting into med school, details of the first year, signs of living with a med student, etc. Those were fun and all, but now I want to address the stuff that doesn’t get talked about. On a good day I feel like we’re hanging on by a fraying thread. I’m about one trip out the door from forgetting my purse, or a kid for that matter. All because I’m so worried about keeping up this facade of how we’re breezing through medical school like anyone can do it. I’ve been carrying such a guilt with me because in the midst of all of this going on, I feel like I am unable to do everything or sometimes anything. The house is a mess (of course things are still in boxes so I’ll use that as my excuse for now). I’m terrible about the little things. I think of how I should send a card or make a quick call and before I know it, a week has passed and I still haven’t done it. I have great little ideas but forget to put them into action.

So, here are the cliff notes of how I felt when we were going through each year. This may help explain- or validate- what you see from other med students and families.

Year 1- A very rude awakening, an initiation if you will, to the chaos of what medical school will be. It’s where you sign your life over to the institution that is promising to make you a “world class medical professional”. It’s the place where, if you’re single, it can still be overwhelming and hard to manage. If you’re married, and with kids, forget about it! It wasn’t made for you! You have to work that much harder to not only make med school work, but your family life as well. It’s the place where you learn how strong your spouse is, you learn how strong you are, and if you make it through, you feel like you can conquer the world. It’s a challenge in not only academics, but mentally and physically too. It’s not for the faint of heart.

Year 2- You’re on a bit of a high from surviving year one. You feel like if you made it through that first year, second year should be a breeze. It went by fast, you learned more than you thought possible in that time frame, and you’re still walking and talking. You’re getting closer to the clinical part, which, let’s be real, that’s the reason most people came to medical school. To work with patients- the hands on stuff. By now your spouse is used to the crazy schedule. I said used to not liking– there’s a distinct difference. This is also the time where you begin to realize that you’re too far in to back out now (what other job will cover the amount of debt you have) and you have the first board exam around the corner. You’re cramming to get classes situated and do well, all at the same time scheduling your rotations, which is such a methodical process that I could almost physically see the request being processed by the RAM in hubs computer.

Year 2.175- Step 1 time! It’s your first board exam and really the major exam that will determine, or have a huge part, in determining your placement for residency. So, no pressure!

Year 3- Rotations start and hubs is now super amped up about being able to do hands on learning. He’s successfully completed 2 rotations so far and just started his third. I will admit his first 2 were really easy compared to what’s coming in the next few months. He had fairly regular hours (aside from studying for step 1).  He did miss Elijah getting his tonsils out- I’m sure the first of many things that will be like that. But, it’s part of the process. The rotation he’s in now requires on call status so there might be times where he gets called in at weird hours of the night. That will be a new process for us. It’s going to be a learning curve for sure, but we’re over half way there so it keeps me going.

What always surprises me are when people presume that being doctor is “easy and carefree”. Both the path of becoming a doctor, as well as being a doctor, are neither. You sacrifice time with family and friends and you’re in high stress situations with a mountain on liability riding on your shoulders. Yes, there are financial perks. There have to be. Otherwise no good business person would consider medical school- the cost to attend is so high, you need a return on that investment to even break even.

All in all, it’s been highly stressful, exhausting and downright irritating sometimes, but hubs and I are closer than ever. He’s doing what he loves- which makes me happy for him. We are forced to communicate, not just frequently, but effectively as well. We plan better, even if in-between is a whirlwind. Most of all, we’re a team- so at least I don’t feel completely alone. Well, not until he has 36 hour shifts and then I’ll hog the bed and binge watch Netflix to fill in the gap!

When Will It End?

~ Kara Mills ~ Leave a comment

I don’t typically write controversial stuff. I woke up last night and checked my phone to see what time it was. I saw a bunch of news updates about the shootings in Dallas. Coupled with the recent shootings of civilians, my heart was heavy. I tried going back to sleep and couldn’t. So, I started typing.

I’m not sure if living in Minnesota makes it different. We’re closer to what has happened. If we lived in Maine or Montana, maybe it would be easier to say how unfortunate it was and what a crazy world we live in. But we live so close. So close that hubs was actually pulled over twice in a month in that same jurisdiction for minimal reasons. It hits very close to home. Proximity to the events shouldn’t matter, but I feel often it’s easier to just change a channel or turn off social media and pretend nothing terrible has happened. We have a problem. We as a country. Is it the culture of the police forces, the frustration of the black citizens? Where does it stop? How and when can we “start over”? I get that some were “justified” (rightly or not- I’m strictly speaking based on the findings of the legal system). But how, even when you do what you’re told, you still get shot. How can that help? How can we move past that? Are police trigger happy because they’re expecting the worst? Are black citizens on edge because they’re assuming they’re going to get shot and ultimately the energy becomes fatal?

It is not just about being confronted by police and getting shot. It starts before that. It’s about being singled out because of the pigment of your skin. About having a higher chance of getting pulled over because you aren’t as pasty white as me. Hubs was on his way to an ambulance ride along for school. He was dressed in business casual (not that it should even matter). It was early in the morning, still dark out. As he was nearing the hospital, he got pulled over for burnt out taillight. After a few preliminary questions, he was given a warning and left. A few weeks later, in that same jurisdiction, he was pulled over because a small part of the tag on the license plate was behind the license plate holder (apparently that’s a thing we weren’t aware of in MN). Why wasn’t it addressed in the first stop? Thank GOD the incidents were eventless. He was covered, lucky, blessed, whatever you want to call it- but he walked away.

I fear for him, my 3 boys and our countless friends and family. I have family and friends who are police officers, both black and white. I fear for them. I fear because I don’t assume the police will always shoot. I fear because nowadays a simple misunderstanding can take a life. Has it become a shoot now, ask questions later society? I’m not saying that all police are trigger happy. People are angry. Angry at a system that that we’ve been taught is supposed to serve and protect, yet people are being killed with little cause in some cases. But how can you generalize a whole population of police based on the actions of some ill trained or bad apples? Isn’t that the same as generalizing the whole black population as thugs? The cycle has to stop- but where?

I know not everyone agrees. If you don’t see a problem with what has been happening, please take a moment and walk through this with me. Imagine you are minding your own business, driving home from a long day of work, and are pulled over. Imagine, instead of the officer simply asking for your ID, you’re asked to put your hands in the air. Of course you’re puzzled. This is just a routine traffic stop and you certainly have nothing to hide or to harm right? The police officer approaches the vehicle with caution and you can see that there is tension. You are asked to step out of the car. Seriously! For a traffic stop? You don’t understand and you begin to ask. “Officer, what is the problem? Is there something I should be aware of?” The officer, feeling that you’re asking too many questions, asks you to put your hands behind your head and to stop talking. Because you’re puzzled and wondering what the heck is going on, you ask again. This time, the officer, feeling that you’re resisting the instructions, escorts you to the ground roughly. Your arm hurts, it’s pinned behind your back and you are still in shock as to why this is even happening. You should be sitting at home right this minute with your spouse, children, pets, whatever. You should not be on the ground, outside of your car, pinned by a police officer that is now shouting at you to sit still and quit resisting. Still not understanding how it has even escalated to this point, you ask again what is happening. Now you feel a weapon on your back. You are getting verbal warnings to stop talking. A simple misunderstanding, confusion, and it could end very badly. This was a routine traffic stop. Imagine now, that the person in this scenario is your child, your sibling. Can you begin to understand how terrifying this is for parents? For spouses? Families?

As a country, we need prayer, lots of it. We need to come together, ALL of us, and have a grown up discussion. Instead of talking about the symptoms, we need to talk about the actual disease that is plaguing our nation. We need to have a civilized discussion where all opinions can be heard and respected. Where people can talk openly without repercussions and criticism. We need people to step outside of their comfortable zones and see what is really happening. It’s easy to turn away and pretend this chaos does not exist. When you don’t feel it or know someone who could be a target, it’s easy to just nod politely and go about your business.

Also, do not misunderstand me. I am in NO WAY saying that one person’s life is more important than another. Historically black Americans were seen as “less than”. That perception, that has been dragged into modern day, in a nonchalant kind of way, needs to end. Black, white, police, civilian- we are all equal.

We cannot correct this issue until ALL people start to understand it and have sympathy of what is going on. I’ve had so many people tell me that racism doesn’t exist, racial profiling is fake. That is the ignorance that fuels this fire! I will be praying for our leaders, current and incoming. I’m praying that this might be addressed as passionately as the economy and terrorism. If we as a community, a state, a nation, do not push to make a change, when will it end?

Why I Needed New Pajamas

~ Kara Mills ~ 1 Comment

I alluded to the 911 incident in my earlier post about hubs being away for the month of May. Here was what happened….

We drove hubs down to the course facility, about 8 hours away, and made it a fun family weekend. While there, we get an email from the landlord indicating that they will be replacing the roof on our town home the coming week. Of course it’s the first week hubs will be away! The last time roof work was done in our complex was the one and only time a unit was broken into. However, based on the police report and feedback, it was likely a person who knew the family that lived there, just a coincidence that the roofs were being replaced. But, it was still in the back of my mind. Heck, we leave our outside lights on just to help brighten things up and deter any shady activity.

Well, the first day of the roofers working, I was working from home with a sick kid (of course someone is sick while hubs is away right!?). In my many comings and goings throughout the day, I saw a worker walking around with a large bucket picking up debris. he was quite, but always had that bucket. Around 9pm they finished up for the day. I got the boys situated and hopped into bed earlier than I had expected.

At about 1am I heard something on the roof and then I heard something on our porch. I bolted up in bed, heart racing, listening for any sound. I heard a few other little things so I decided to peek out of my bedroom window. On the sidewalk, at the bottom of my porch stairs, was that same bucket carried by the debris guy, sitting upright. My heart was pounding. Is he here on my porch? Why would he be here at 1 in the morning? What do I do? Do I call the police? Do I wait and see if I’m just freaking out for nothing? What if someone is in the house? Do I get the kids before calling the police or after?

So, I called the police. Within about 10 minutes I saw the flashlights outside the window and then the doorbell rang. I confirmed it was the police and opened the door. Apparently, the bucket had been left on the roof, rolled off and had so gracefully landed right side up- making it appear that someone had just set it down. Nice. Well at least I had peace of mind. Oh, and that was also the moment I decided I needed some better pajamas. Worn maternity shorts and an old t-shirt from high school are not the nicest thing to answer the door in. So, I went back to bed (and thankfully slept) and made it my mission the next day to find some better pajamas.

Ode to Single Parents

~ Kara Mills ~ 1 Comment

For the month of May, hubs was out of state for an exam prep course. He was gone for 4 solid weeks. Four solid weeks of just me and the 3 boys: school, work, soccer, repeat. A lot of people were horrified that he was away, often remarking, “What in the world are you going to do!?”. Really, I had it easier than most. My advantage is that I knew ahead of time that he was leaving. There are many moms out there that are thrust into single parenthood without notice. If I don’t plan well, that’s on me!

I’m not saying there were no bumps in the road. We had an incident where I thought the house was being broken into and had to call 911- read about that here. We of course could not go 4 weeks without a sick kid. Seriously, enough with the fevers and ear infections already! And, in the thick of it, I had to travel for 5 days to my annual conference in Las Vegas. It was all a whirlwind. I could not have survived without hubs mom who visited often to help out (i.e. check on my sanity), or my mom who came to stay with the boys while I was gone (I’m pretty sure she will never, ever do that again!).

At the end of the month when I was thinking over everything, I was shocked at how fast it went by and also that I survived! I felt so accomplished! The last time I felt that accomplished was when I pushed a watermelon sized baby out of my body! But, I only did this single thing for a month, I had time to plan, and I had family to help in a pinch. All I could think about  were all the single parents I know that do this every day- many without ever complaining- and they’re kicking butt! I have such respect for those folks. Sure, I can toot my own horn and act all giddy that I made it one whole month without hubs (it was really just by the grace of God that we made it through!), working full time, with 3 boys. But, that was only 1 month. I knew there was an end. I had that to look forward to and keep me in a constant adrenaline rush.

So, to all my single parents, kudos to you for making it happen, all day, every day. I have so much respect for you. And when hubs is in residency and we see him maybe 3 hours a week, I may be coming to all of you for advice!

Bottling Up Moments

~ Kara Mills ~ 2 Comments

I was recently putting Asher to bed thinking about how wonderful it felt to have him melt into me while sleeping. I mean, we were basically glued together by snot and spit, and it was wonderful. It also made me think about how much I missed and probably took those moments for granted with the bigger boys. It feels like a decade ago. Well, it has been a decade! I was thinking about how awesome it would be to bottle up each of those precious moments we have. Capture everything from the smells, sounds, feels and emotions. The feeling of the chubby legs folded over my lap while his warm drooling cheek lays on my shoulder. The smell of baby wipes, Shea butter soap and bag balm (the best alternative for butt cream EVER- seriously, I had someone hug me after a suggestion to try it). All of those senses molded into one bottle that can be opened at a moment’s notice. Maybe when he goes to kindergarten, or graduates high school. Or, gulp, gets married. You know, like in the BFG by Roald Dahl. The BFG had the ability to capture everyone’s dreams and can then use them as needed. How awesome would it be to capture those moments in life that we want to cherish forever? And then when you need a reminder or are feeling emotional, you can open it up and live it all over again. Not just visually or by hearing it, but by feeling it.

As a mom, it’s hard to always remember to embrace every moment. Outside of working away from home, there are so many things that are consuming time when I get home. Dinner, homework, baths, school clothes, laundry, just to name a few. Notice I didn’t even mention cleaning. I suppose that falls in there as well. Everyone always says to embrace the moment, time passes so fast, <insert Hallmark line here>. But, on the flip side, there is this underlying expectation that standards need to be met in order to be a successful mom and feel like you’ve accomplished something. People can see your clean house, taste your good food and evaluate the completed homework. No one may see that you rocked the baby for an extra 20 minutes just to smell their recently washed hair, or told the kiddos a crazy, homemade bed time story before bed. We count everything in minutes of a day. It’s 30 minute to make dinner, 1 hour for homework, 8 hours of work, etc. We don’t necessarily count moments of the day. It’s easy to say that the kids have to go to bed now because I have an hour worth of laundry to fold. But really, what’s an extra 20 minutes to cuddle? You can’t bottle that up, but you sure can the laundry! And I don’t know about you, but I would love to bottle up that laundry and send it away! While I’m not saying live in squalor, I do believe instead of doing things we feel pressured to do, adjust the schedule with things we know will have a greater impact on how we feel about time and those moments that often pass us by.

The point of my bottled up soapbox is that until we can feel less pressure (real or not) about how we’re conducting ourselves as moms, we will not change. I’m so guilty of that. I see magazines that show me how a perfect house looks. How to “really clean” in only 30 minutes a week. Or how to make a healthy meal in only 10 minutes a day. There is a fix for everything, but limited time or resources to implement it. So, instead of saying “oh well” and not stressing over what I had planned on making for dinner, I’m making my 30 minute meal feeling guilty for the extra 20 minutes I could be using elsewhere. I’m sure not everyone feels the pressure from those types of articles. Heck, maybe I’m a glutton for punishment? I too get sucked into the depths of Pinterest on occasion looking for a better solution to dinner ideas, cleaning, school and whatever the stress of the moment is. I’m working on caring less about how things are structured and what others may think about how my house looks or what we’re having for dinner. But, it’s not easy when, based on conversations I’ve had with folks who like to “keep it real”, it appears most people are masquerading about the home front because it’s too embarrassing or too disappointing to admit they had cereal for dinner or had to rewash the items in the washer 3 times before remembering to put it in the dryer. When I hear that, I feel better knowing I’m not the only one. But then wonder too, how many other moms feel that pressure and we’re all too ashamed to say anything? So, while you ponder that, I am going to cuddle my baby!