Category Archives: Mommy Challenges

Just one thing.

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If you’re a mother, please do one thing…around your house every day? Nope. For your husband? Nah. To make the world a better place? Maybe, but that’s not what I mean.

So many things can go by the wayside in motherhood: hygiene, a clean house, a sense of control in a world that no longer belongs to you but for all you Moms out there, I implore you, do one thing, just one thing…FOR yourself.

Get up really early and read. Or to watch that DVR’d tv show that your kid should never see. Sit down to eat a meal. Read People Magazine. Carve out time to get a pedicure. Take a bath. Scrapbook. Girl’s Night. Get ready for the day. Ignore them. Turn on a show for them. Give them a pile of snacks. Just make the time.

For me, that thing is running.

I have become the reason they make sport and athletic shoe ads, in slow motion, to the theme song for Chariots of Fire. I’m why they make up cute and inspiring quotes for t-shirts and social media about women who run. I fall for it hook, line and sinker. Because with so much of my identity wrapped up in other people at this time in my life, I need to be inspired to remember myself. I need to have one little thing that’s just about Krissy. I’m not even that good at it and in my pre-kid life, the most I ever ran was, like, 3 miles. When I go for a run now, I exceed what I once believed I was capable of. Running (some) distance, without incontinence. Setting an example for my kids to be well, to put themselves first in some small area. Besides, who are we kidding, it gets my head straight to prepare me for the battle ahead. Against laundry, against sibling contention, against the crowds at Costco.

Whatever it is, make it a priority to do something for yourself. It’s ok. It’s important. It’s essential. You will be better for your family. Do just one thing for yourself. Oh, and I don’t mean drink a bottle of wine. Although, no judgement.

Back to School

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ImageMy name is Kristina and I think I may have regressed into a want-to-be-popular-aholic. I’m 37…not 13 and it’s been on my mind a lot lately.

My high school experience was less than awesome. I was awkward. I had enormous glasses. I had ENORMOUS hair. When attempts to fit in were thwarted, I found my own group of misfits. It worked for me. I got to stay quirky. I never really had the chance to conform. I think it served me in being pretty ok in my own skin as an adult and I’m grateful it worked out that way. My adult life has been the best time in my life, I’m unapologetic about who I am (though generally apologetic about what I say), and hopefully I’m prepared to guide my kids through those challenges if they have them. If by some miracle my kid’s aren’t awkward, I hope to show them that being friends with everyone is the coolest thing you can do.

But as I embark on the second year of preschool for my son, and the pool of moms and kids gets bigger and more inter-connected, I can feel myself revert into an adolescent desire to be well-liked. It bums me out because ironically, there has never been a more important time to be steadfast and certain of myself. Uncompromising. There are four little eyes on me. Watching how I respond. What I say. Am I true to myself? Am I true to my standards for them? Or am I trying to be liked? And it will only get worse, people. Come on, it’s preschool. And if I allow myself to compromise to be liked, and that desire trumps my convictions now, who will I be when they’re in high school?

I can only pray that I do them the service of seeing “me” be “me” no matter who’s in the room. I hope I’m unwavering in my parenting. I hope I walk the talk and show them that trying to please others is a fruitless path. If you betray yourself, you’ll lose doubly. It won’t earn you respect and then you dilute the awesome of your own uniqueness. The worst thing I could ever teach my kids is to be disingenuous to themselves at the crossroad of acceptance. And of course, the irony is that no other mom cares what I am or am not doing, what I wear, what I say. No mom is spending hours asking herself, “do I like her?”. It’s just a self-imposed fear of being disliked. My Mom has always said, “the most narcissistic mistake you can make is to think that other people are thinking about you” and since she’s always right, I’m sure the application of that statement to this situation is apropos.

So if you’re my friend and you see me pretending I care about Sno-King Soccer or T-ball, acting interested in the Shoreline City Council, pretending I have Soren in Spanish and Dance for enrichment rather than the extra 1/2 hour it buys me to run errands, if you see me doing my hair just for drop-off, trading in my sweats for a sweater set or generally acting like I have ANYTHING all together, please put me in check. I’m a loud, haphazard, crazy-hair-having mama of two. I love them and God and my family. Just a say-too-much train wreck whose probably not destined for the PTA. If you’re my friend, please don’t let me forget it. Don’t let me forget that who I am AS a Mom is infinitely more important than who I am TO a Mom.

there is no “vacation” in my vacation.

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The combination of stay-at-home mom and family vacation is a sham. In actuality, I am required to do my usual job under tougher circumstances and without the tools, toys and comforts I would ordinarily have. It’s like a survivor challenge. Or an episode of MacGyver.

We recently returned from a family vacation to Whistler, B.C.. A ski trip for my husband, an avid skier with a dream of having a skiing family. In other words, not an optional hobby for my kids and not an optional vacation unless you want to see the saddest Sad Faced Paul ever.

The challenges presented on the trip?

How do you manage a one-year-old in a total party condo from the 80’s (think “Hot Tub Time Machine”) with nothing child friendly about it? The answer is wine.

How do you, your husband and your three-year-old sleep in a queen size bed with your one-year-old in a pack-n-play, all in the same room with different bed times? The answer is wine. Just kidding. The answer is the threat of bodily harm if everyone is not silent.

How do you manage your toddler without any toys or entertainment? Because you forgot…to bring ANYTHING for him (in addition to your own shampoo, razor and underpants). The answer is your intention of “quality family time” without “screen time” goes out the window…and your hair is nasty, your legs are hairy and you hand-wash your panties for seven days.

With the pièce de résistance being the panic attack you have at the end of the trip when you realize that the dirty laundry from the trip and the disorganization of the packing out might send you over the edge when your husband returns to work the next day and you’re left with a mountain of work more disorganized than any ordinary non-“vacation” day, oh AND the Bermuda Triangle of your socks’ little partners.

I hope when my kids are adults, they will want to come on vacation with us. Presumably by then, they will be potty trained and I won’t need outlet covers which will be a little more relaxing. Until then, I take a lot of pictures because if my Mom is right (and she’s always right), I won’t remember it was hard, I’ll just wish I could go back.