Laying it all out there

Funny thing about blogs, we get to edit our lives.  We share only what we chose to share.

For the past two weeks, I haven't shared a thing. 

My excuses: I work away from home, a family business that is super super busy right now.  The twins have been playing baseball, which my dear hubby is coaching.  Oh and dear hubby started a new job, which makes things a little crazy too.  Plus little man is having a terrific transition from being two to three.  (this morning I found him after he poured dish detergent in the toilet, flinging toilet bubbles at the puppy). And the last thing I want to do at night is get back on a computer.

And then I feel guilt: for not writing, for being a one year blog, for not laying it all out there, for disappointing those who do read faithfully, for not reading others.

This morning it hit me.  I started this blog a year ago in secret.  I didn't start it for readers, I started it for me and somewhere along the way I got sidetracked.  Not that I don't love comments and followers.  That is just not why I started.  Blogs can change, transform, morph, grow, digress.  It happens.  No one is paying me to write, I write because I enjoy it.  I no longer enjoyed it when it became like a job and I felt guilty for not doing so. 
I am a mommy writer who wants to track the milestones of her children.  Those moments that you always want to remember, but know you won't if you don't capture them in some way.  Those are the moments I want to write about.
Along the way I started writing about other stuff to - because I am also a person away from a mom.  I realized I am kind of lost as that person right now.  I've decided to make a few changes in my life.

On June 1, 2010 I will breathe free.  For all you non-smokers that means I'll have my last cigarette on May 31st and actually quit for the 101st and final time.  I need to do it, I have tried to do it, I've done it before.  But this time for good.  For all of you gasping at my demise. I know.  For those of you who are closet smokers, remember I know who some of you are, and I won't hate on you when I quit.

On June 7, 2010 I am starting the couch to 5k program.  I want to run.  I've played sports, but somewhere in the last few years, I've become not a couch potato per say but a slacker for sure.  I want to be able to run with my children again without losing my breath. 

I also want to lose 15 lbs that I have put on in the last 1 1/2 years (did you know you can actually feel your metabolism change).  I've been virtually the same size for 15 years (minus a couple of pregnancies) and this sloth that I have turned into recently is really not me.  I used to be in such great shape.  I am working my way back into pilates and eating correctly.  No diet here, just awareness and more of doing what I know is good for me.

It is really hard to lay all of this out there.  But here it is.  I will share my journey and the journey of my children.  But I am not going to write like it is my job anymore.  I can't.  I have a job, or two, or three.  I don't need another.  I hope you stay with me, but if you don't, I understand that too.

with my heart on my sleeve
MamaO

The Happiness Project: Little League

Watching my boys play baseball (although I never get them both in the same action shot)

Forget the terrible twos, it is the TERRIFYING threes!

In 26 days little man will turn three.
I would like to skip a whole year ahead now. 

People say - ohh it's the terrible twos.  Why yes it is.  It is even more terrible when your son is so tall he looks like a four year old and people expect him to be well behaved. 

When he is stomping his foot and telling me no (in a not so quiet voice).  I look at the woman shaking her head at me and say - "he is two."  Automatically this know-everythng-about-motherhood- woman changes her whole expression and smiles while saying, "this too shall pass."

She's right.  It does pass.  As slow as molasses pours from a jar. 

Only it doesn't pass on to better things, it actually gets worse.

It turns into the terrifying threes.  I figured out why they call them terrifying when the twins were three.  The think they are invincible and have found their voice.  It makes for some dangerous situations and loud tantrums.  There are many moments I have blocked from memory, just because the trauma was too much for my brain.

Anyone who thinks the art of conversation is dead ought to tell a child to go to bed. ~Robert Gallagher