Moving On... Or Are We?

Moving on is easy... or, it should be anyway. 

Sometimes, it is.

Like when you realize you have a stain on your shirt from breakfast and you have to wear it for the rest of the day.  Eh! No biggy, everyone stains their shirt, right?!

That's an easy one.

When a friendship is "on the rocks" and you're left behind wondering, "Now what do I do"?

That's not so easy.

In life we have so many friendships.

The ones we've had since childhood.

The ones we create in college.

The ones we make at work.

The ones we acquire when we marry.

The ones we gain after we have kids.

And that's where I'm at...

At a time in life that is so joyous and full of new life, we find people that are in the same place as us. We are pregnant together, sharing stories of how we're feeling, doctor's appointment details, due dates and finally, getting together on maternity leave and sharing ideas on how to be a mom for the first time.

These are strong bonds. Especially when you have your second babies together too!

Sometimes, friendships get defined for a time when one's weakness is another's strength.

One is struggling with depression and anxiety after having those babies. While the other friend is strong, and collected and able to help. One day at a time, the strong one picks the weak one up, until she can stand on her own.

Then what?

Play dates, phone calls, sharing secrets, life's ups & downs.

But what if that friendship is still one-sided?

On one hand, the strong one is still helping the weak one, whether she needs it or not.

On the other hand, the weak one is branching out, getting stronger by her own methods and meeting new people, trying new things.  Even though she is still struggling, she's trying to move on to a new place. She's tired of complaining, crying, and being stuck in a vicious cycle of depression and darkness. But the strong one does not come along.

Why can't the weak one give advice to the strong one? Why can't the weak one be the listener for a time? Why can't the weak one ever be seen as strong and capable? Because she feels that way. She feels renewed, positive, energetic and wants to be able to be there for the strong one as she has been there for her over the course of the friendship.  Why can't the strong one stop trying to do everything, be everything and control everything?

It's okay to ask for help, as the weak one has done so many times before. And look at where she is now.  She's not on top, but right where she needs to be. Still figuring out life, but knows how to get through rough times and how to revel in the good times.

Sometimes, in her new-found confidence, the weak one says too much. She has learned from the strong one how to be courteous, how to treat friends, how to be tactful yet polite with her words. But what if a situation arose that the weak one can't help but to blurt out honesty?  She tries to compose herself and speak honestly, but with love and concern in her undertones.  And what if, with the strong one's pride in the forefront, the honesty given by the weak one is mistaken for judgment and cruelty?

The situation has come to a head. Both friends feel passionately about their own point of view. The weak one is passionate about giving the strong one advice and showing concern over the situation. The strong one is passionate in her belief that everything is under control, although she has lost control. She knows she has been struggling for a long time. The struggle has lead to conflicting feelings of wanting to maintain control of her life, and not reach out for help, but knowing she should.

The weak one sees this and tries to help, but is rejected. Should she back up and remain weak? Give in to salvage the miss-aligned friendship? What is there to salvage if we cannot look at our friends and give in? Give in to the fact that we have lost control, show our weaknesses and cry out for help? What are friends for?

Friends are for just that... giving in. The balance of friendships sway to and fro over the years. Never ceasing in give and take. We shouldn't need labels such as strong or weak, because we are all strong AND weak at different times in our lives. The key to success in friendships is to know when these times are and embrace them.

The blessing is at the end. The blessing always comes. And our true friendships become and remain stronger in spite of these troubled times.

I cannot begin to recall all of the times I have been on either the giving or receiving ends of mercy and grace by a friend.  Friends SHOULD BE able to recognize which of these times we're in, and react accordingly.

The old cliché states that friendships come and go, as they ebb and flow.  The key is to know when to hang on and fight, or move on and let go.

Relationships end. Some just last longer than others.  That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. That doesn't mean that the time spent together wasn't valuable and worthwhile. It just means that every relationship has a purpose. Whether that purpose is for one or both friends, hopefully they both take something memorable and positive from it when they do decide it's over.

In the end, the risk of relationships is always worth it. And I wouldn't change a thing about any one I've ever had.

Stress, Schmess!

I know it's been since Feb. since I've written. I've been busy and I've also been lazy (as far as writing is concerned).  But it is now fall, and I will actually be sitting in front of my computer a lot more.

So, Ava is 2 and a half.

We're potty training.

Hot & heavy.

I've never had to potty train a child before. Yes, I know I have a 5 and half year old, but I was working 40-50 hours a week and paying the big bucks for those sweet ladies at daycare to train her!  That was a breeze!!

This... not so much.

I will say, that Ava gets it. She knows what she needs to do. She just needs to pee after she sits on the toilet.

And, we've had a rough 6-8 months with her being able to go #2. She just can't. Even in a diaper.

So, today is day 3 of potty training. I'm not bribing, reading books, singing, babysitting (unless to clean her up), stickering, charting, toy-ing, NOTHING. I've tried all of that. I set the expectation very clearly.

And she heard it. Loud and clear.

The first day was awesome.

The second day was pretty good too. Only 1 accident on her way to the potty, she just didn't get her pants down in time.

Today... not so good.

She peed on the dining room chair while she was eating her breakfast.

She peed on another dining room chair while she was eating her lunch.

She peed on the (tile, thank God) bathroom floor 3 times on her way to the potty.

She peed on the stairs from playing in the basement on her way to the potty.

And... the Hershey's squirts.

She still can't go #2, and it's the squirts that kill me (and her, I suppose). She squeezes with all of her might to hold that in, surely it's gonna hurt!

And all I get is a squirt! (Hey, that rhymes).

I feel so bad for her, and she is doing SO well. I can't take this frustration out on her! So, I do another load of laundry (9 in the last 2 days - we only have 4 people in our house), clean the floor, or the chair, and Ava, and move on again.

I remind her about every 10 minutes to see if she has to go. The mere mention of a chance to sit on the potty makes her have to go! So, about every 10 minutes, I'm up, I'm down, I'm up, I'm down.

I tried cleaning the house today. Handwashing the tile floors, bleaching and sanitizing the bathrooms, vacuuming, you know, the normal stuff...  It took me 5 and a half hours to vacuum and shake the rugs, vacuum the hard floors (pre-wash) and clean one bathroom.

Every. Ten. Minutes.

All. Day. Long.

Now, I'm not one to hold back on admitting my weaknesses. If you've read my first ever blog post, "Flashbacks to Losing it", you'll know - I'm not ashamed of weaknesses.  I will tell you this...

Potty training has pushed me to the end of sanity.  I don't know why. Granted, it would push "normal" moms to the brink too, but they seem to just brush it off and move on.  Me?  I almost had a panic attack today.  I just wanted to cry.

So, tomorrow is a new day. Ava is so proud that she gets on the potty by herself, announcing to the household that she's going potty, while unravelling the entire roll of toilet paper to wipe (whether she goes or not). I am proud of her too.

It is such hard work. Some things are easier for others, but this... this has really tested me.

I love my girls, and I'm so proud of them. I keep my frustrations to myself, never exploding or showing them that I am stressed. But, being a single married woman (I'll explain that someday), it's TOUGH.

The blessing in this is that at the end of the day, my girls go to bed. They are obedient, sweet, loving, kind and they love their Mommy. They would do anything to please me.  When they go to bed, I miss them. I miss their sweet faces, their sweet voices.

And I get to have a glass (or two) of wine... FINALLY!!

I worked out so hard my skin tingles...

I just got off the treadmill.  I was only on it for 38 minutes.  I burned (according to the treadmill) 455 calories.  And I'm not done yet...

I discovered there's something I like to do on the treadmill - - - - - - -

R-U-N.

I worked out today while my kids were awake.  Usually I do it while they're still in bed in the morning.  But today, I slept in till 7 so I didn't want the morning to be rushed.  I figured I'd take a shot at working out while they're playing so nicely together this afternoon.

Let me preface this by saying my "workout room" is in the basement.  The main room in the basement is split into two halves - one half has my treadmill and Bowflex, while the other half (or 3/4, whatever) is the kids' tv/movie/book/toy area. 

Well, they were playing nicely - until they saw me on the treadmill. 

Hannah, my oldest daughter, wanted to take a turn on the treadmill.  I said, through my panting, that she could have a turn when I was finished.

Then the baby fired up.  Ava, my youngest daughter, just shy of 2 years old, wanted a turn too... NOW.  I stopped the treadmill and tried to explain that it was Mommy's turn and when I was finished she and Sissy could take turns.  This seemed to work.

As I resumed my workout, I watched as Ava went over to the couch, crossed her legs and tensed up.  I knew what was happening.  I just watched her stand there and moan, red-faced, until it seemed the job was done.  Then she came over to me and demanded, "POOPY!  POOPY!  OUCH!  ICKY!!"  And she didn't stop until, once again, I stopped the treadmill and took her upstairs to change her.

She seemed happy again for about 2 minutes until she came over to me, back again in a full run, whining.  And whining.  And whining.  Then whining turned into crying and crying to screeching.  I told her to go upstairs and wait for mommy.  I only had 10 minutes left!

Then I remembered that I didn't want to be that mom again (see previous post), so I thought, instead of running at my usual leisurely 5mph at no incline, I'd kick it up a notch.

So I took the incline up to 5 and turned the speed up to 6mph, which, for this girl, is almost a sprint.

It felt so good!

I ran and ran and ran and ran until I couldn't run anymore, and I was completely drenched in sweat.  But I was no longer irritated.  I cleared my mind and just... started running.

I loved every second of it.

It must have felt good to my body too because I sweat like I didn't think was possible to sweat, and my skin has that feeling similar to when you're out in the cold too long and you step into the warm house or wash your cold hands and they burn and tingle.  It's so weird!

I can't wait to do it again tomorrow...