Go with your gut

I was recently included in a group message by a grade school friend who is about to have her first child. She was looking for suggestions on a pediatrician from all her "mom friends" out there in cyberspace.
As I sat there reading the other responses from the other women who either LOVED their pediatrician or were just lukewarm about them, I thought of what I could contribute. I like our doctor. That's about it. He is knowledgeable, he is friendly and listens to my concerns, he has a sense of humor and the kids like him and the nurses there. That being said, I think the wait time is waaaaaay too long when I have made an appointment in advance - would he wait for me in that fun little room if I was running late??? Of course not! I have heard other doctors accuse him of giving out antibiotics like candy and having too many patients to handle. The jury is still out on that one. You may be wondering why in the world I'd entrust my five most precious blessings to someone who I don't fully trust. . . .
The answer to that is that there is no one out there (besides Tim) that I fully trust when it comes to my babies! It is a scary business being a parent - I've heard it likened to your heart walking outside your body, and I'd say that is pretty darn accurate. Suddenly, you love someone so fiercely, and and at the same time spend every waking (and sleeping) moment terrified that they will be hurt by something or someone - or worse yet, hurt by you! God forbid I make the wrong decision in terms of what I think is best for them. Am I being strict enough or too strict? Letting them be kids, or not teaching enough responsibility? Giving them enough activity or overscheduling?
I realized as I read this email today, that as moms, the most powerful tool we have is our gut. My mom used to say that she never really worried about me getting into too much trouble as a kid because I had such a good conscience. That same little voice inside from when I was a kid, is what guides me today. Its that feeling in your stomach that something's just not right. Its how I know when my 9 year old is trying to pull a fast one on me, or when my 3 year old's ickiness has gone past just a regular cold. Its how I know that a certain child needs a little one-on-one mom time or that 2nd grader saying they don't feel good is worried about something at school.
I don't claim to know better than a doctor, but I do believe that my gut feeling rarely leads me astray. I will never put my full trust in a doctor, teacher or anyone when in comes to my child, and that is the advice I would give to any new mom. Do what feels right and what works best for your family. Be an informed mom, do your research, don't be afraid to ask questions. When you don't feel comfortable with the answers you get, ask different questions or different people. After all, you are your child's advocate!! They need to know that you are on their team. That's not to say that things will always turn out perfectly - its a rare night that I go to bed feeling satisfied with everything that happened that day. But like they say, hindsight is 20/20, and hopefully we learn from our mistakes. My mom says nobody ever tells you all the guilt that comes along with being a mom. So true- I like to think that plays a part in keeping me determined to do right by my kids. There's an instruction manual for every petty little thing ever invented, except children. So in the meantime, I'm gonna keep going with my gut!!

Home is where your story begins

Scoutie is 9 months old today!!

The prettiest little angel in the Christmas band

The cutest goat in the manger

What we wake up to every morning in our bed

We all know that our houses are simply physical structures that are made of tangible pieces - bricks, mortar, insulation, wood, nails, shingles, etc. And we've all heard "home is where the heart is." But rarely do we, or should I say, I , stop to think, really think, about what intangible things make up a home. I started thinking about it a couple nights ago.

When I was newly married, and even more so when Piper was an infant, I spent a lot of time at my parents' house. You men out there may not understand this as well as us womenfolk, but motherhood in the early days can be quite a daunting and confusing task. Its not the basic act of caring for this new life so much as your new role. Suddenly, you are supposed to fit the bill. You will not only care for this baby, but also make it seem like you've got it all together. House clean, check! Grocery shopping done, check! Laundry clean, folded and put away, check! The wonderful aroma of dinner cooking when your husband gets home, you bet! Somehow in the middle of this though, you start wondering how you went from being a little girl to someone else's MOM!! For me, I think I blinked and suddenly I was the one in charge of all the things that my mom used to be in charge of, and let me tell you that is a scary thought!! Nearly nine years later there are still days its a scary thought :) So, anyway, I think thats why I spent a lot of time at my parents' house, because it made ME feel secure, taken care of and like everything was going to be okay even when I wasnt sure what I was supposed to be doing.

Why, you ask, did I start thinking about all this now?? Tim was working late so I took the kids to Nana and Papa's for dinner. No special occasion, no birthday to celebrate, just to be together. Okay, the crockpot full of homemade meatballs and marinara played a little part. Let me rewind just a bit and tell you that my parents moved about a year and a half ago so the house we go to now wasn't the memory making house per se. But it was when I was walking to the freezer in the basement to get another loaf of garlic bread before going home (Nana's great for carryouts) that I had a moment. I realized that even though my mom and dad have lived in this house only a short time, it has their mark on it. It has that "feeling" to it - you know the one where it's like a big hug, a deep breath, a weight lifted off your shoulders.

One of my favorite things in my home is the sign about the doorway that reads, "Home is where your story begins." My sister-in-law gave it to me several years ago, and it's so true. It really doesn't matter where you live, or how long you've lived there. Your memories travel with you. It's how you treat the people you make part of your family, the times you share together. Coming back home, wherever home is at the time, is a great feeling.

I'll probably never have it all together the way my mom did. I'm still scrambling to get lunches into backpacks when the bus is rounding the corner, my daughter ate mac n cheese for breakfast this morning and I was late turning in my kids book order forms. But, those lunches were nutritious and tailored to each child's personal tastes, the mac n cheese was organic, and I read with my kids every day. It is rare that all our shoes make it into the closet at the end of the day, they often have to be located under the chair or couch and you can usually scrounge up a full ziploc baggy of Annie's cheddar bunnies under the seats in our Suburban.

Despite all this chaos, I hope that my own family feels the same way about the home we are making together that I do about the way my parents still provide emotional comfort for me. This time of year is obviously full of Christmas traditions in our home, but we also celebrate two December birthdays. Piper turns 9 on the 14th and Carter will be 5 on the 15th. (How's that for planning???) There are three things that always have to happen on birthdays in our house. Number one, the birthday child picks the dinner meal. Number two, breakfast is ALWAYS the birthday coffee cake which is a gooey concoction of butterscotch pudding mix, cherries and frozen dinner rolls. (A huge challenge for a dye-free fam, but go ahead, challenge me!!) Yummm!!! And finally, the birthday child picks their cake. This sounds simple enough, but is apparent that my children have been spoiled with an abundance of homemade treats. No simple chocolate or vanilla here. Carter has chosen carrot cake with cream cheese frosting and Piper requested a chocolate peppermint ice cream cake. The carrot cake is in the oven for Saturday's celebration and I begin the search for all-natural peppermint ice cream free of the dreaded Red 40 tonight. Trader Joe's and Whole Foods, here I come. I like to think that these simple traditions (complete with the aroma of ginger and cinnamon wafting through the house) will be part of the story I'm beginning for my kids.

Here's hoping that all my friends and family get a chance to come back home this holiday season, wherever home may be. May your holidays be filled with old memories and plenty of time to make new ones.