After much thought and care, David Culiner, the man behind LovethisLife and its amazing manifesto, penned the manifesto below…

lovethislife Kid…

is about celebrating our moments

and how I rock to a rhythm all my own

and I just may teach you more than you teach me

and like you…I’m a miracle

 lovethislife Kid…

is honoring that my dreams

aren’t obligated to fulfill yours

and since I had no say in being here

you’ll provide a safe space

where I can innocently unfold

even if I take up the drums

 lovethislife Kid…

is the inevitable embrace

that all we are is Love

so unconditionally love me

while I imperfectly become Me

without promising you the same

when I hit my teens

 lovethislife Kid…

as we grow together and apart

let’s rock.

_____________________________

parental signature(s)

copyright 2011, david culiner

For me this hits home, especially in those moments when I worry that my little free spirits are going to be judged for being different or when I find myself imposing my own ideas into their life.  I would love to hear if  it speaks to you or your thoughts on it.  Visit our facebook page and sign the manifesto in honor of your own angels or on behalf of children everywhere.  If we all let a child’s true grace be loved and embraced, that child and the world will only be better.

https://www.facebook.com/WhittysWears

March Madness has hit our house.  The husband is OBSESSED with college basketball.  There are currently 3 jumbo brackets in our tv room.  All televisions are tuned to basketball and our entire life is revolving around game times and match ups.  He even saves his personal days from work so he can take off and not miss a single game.

I love March Madness and I am in a pool and know a bit about college hoops.  But in watching the dynamic in our house, I have this observation:

Women watch March Madness (or anything on tv really) and we manage to do the laundry, balance our checkbooks, play a game with the kids, do some online shopping, supervise homework, do the dishes, catch up on email and even write a blog.

Men watch madness and manage a grunt and a scratch.  If they are feeling super productive, they do down a beer and some chips.

I’ve asked my husband why he can’t be a bit more productive and his standard response is “I might miss something.”  With numerous working Tivo’s in our house, I just don’t buy it.

My feeling and insight today… women just rock and are the ultimate multi-taskers.

Now women, go relax a bit and let the housework go for a while.  I am going to go emulate my husband and watch some hoops and hope my bracket looks good at the end of the day.

March Madness has hit our house.  The husband is OBSESSED with college basketball.  There are currently 3 jumbo brackets in our tv room.  All televisions are tuned to basketball and our entire life is revolving around game times and match ups.  He even saves his personal days from work so he can take off and not miss a single game.

I love March Madness and I am in a pool and know a bit about college hoops.  But in watching the dynamic in our house, I have this observation:

Women watch March Madness (or anything on tv really) and we manage to do the laundry, balance our checkbooks, play a game with the kids, do some online shopping, supervise homework, do the dishes, catch up on email and even write a blog.

Men watch madness and manage a grunt and a scratch.  If they are feeling super productive, they do down a beer and some chips.

I’ve asked my husband why he can’t be a bit more productive and his standard response is “I might miss something.”  With numerous working Tivo’s in our house, I just don’t buy it.

My feeling and insight today… women just rock and are the ultimate multi-taskers.

Now women, go relax a bit and let the housework go for a while.  I am going to go emulate my husband and watch some hoops and hope my bracket looks good at the end of the day.

I LOVE Facebook.  When I first started my account, I thought it was a colossal waste.  I only set up a profile so I could be friends with my husband and see what the hype was.  With each passing day and the thrill of more friend requests, I became addicted.  In the beginning, I laughed at people posting “Eating lunch” or “Took a nap.”  I mean, really, did they think we cared to know every intimate detail of their day?  I aimed to keep my posts light and general.  I was sure most didn’t care to hear everything I was doing and I was fine being a Facebook mystery.

I did, however, find myself anxious to know what friends were doing and couldn’t wait to read their posts.  As I read, however, odd emotions flooded my senses.  I would read their happenings and feel happy, sad or ambivalent about my own life.  My friend list quickly grew to include many who were moms.  One day as I read other moms’ postings, I felt huge emotions of inadequacy, stress and ineptitude at motherhood.

I work from home, I only have two kids and a husband and I thought I was being a pretty good mom and wife and balancing it all.  But then Mary posted that she makes her own baby food…oh no, I gave my kids jarred food and processed mac ‘n cheese today.  Jessie posted photos of her 2-year-old at Disney…my kids haven’t even been to the local fair.  Rhonda just did a scrapbook for each of her four kids and is now on a date with her husband…my daughter’s photos haven’t been printed since birth and the last date I had with my husband was at Chili’s with a kid on each of our laps.  Thank you Facebook for showing me what a colossal failure I am as a mother.  I guess I better start a therapy fund for my kids.  They are going to need someone to tell them they were loved as children because I am not cutting it…at least that is what Facebook is telling me.

In a world of overly competitive moms, Facebook can be an evil, soul crushing machine.  It is human nature to compare ourselves to others.  When we think we don’t measure up to other’s standards and actions we feel like failures.  So what is a mom to do?  First, if you are using Facebook, remember that, in my opinion, about 90% of the posts are glorified and sensationalized to make you feel bad and them feel great.  You don’t see many posts saying “Forgot to buckle my kid into her car seat as we cruised the freeway” or “Made my fifth trip to McDonald’s because I don’t feel like cooking.”  Those moms boasting about homemade crafts and baby food are as insecure as the rest of us and looking to others to hype them up a bit.  It is like high school where the bully is the one who is the most insecure at home.

Another thing to keep in mind is that Facebook is good for moms.  It lets us ask advice from moms everywhere when a kid is sick or we need some reassurance.  Facebook and other social media are a connection and every mom knows after being home with only a two-year old to discuss the world’s events with, that we need our friends and we need our community support.  But, we also need honesty.  Next time you go to post something on Facebook, go the fresh route and lay it all out there.  I for one have been known to post such things as “Over my kids and over my husband…calgon take me away.”  Afterall, a little honesty never hurt.

Post wisely and post honestly and Facebook can be our greatest resource.  Happy networking.

My name is Tina.  I am a mom, wife, business owner, employee and world-class multi-tasker.  I am also drowning in my life.

Today, I am breaking down the walls and admitting to the world in this very public forum what I suspect many moms are feeling right now.  I am stretched too thin and over committed.  I am spinning in so many directions I don’t know the top from the bottom or anything in between.  I am being truly honest not to be saved or pitied.  I am admitting this ugly truth for one simple reason; to let all the moms drowning in silence know they are not alone.

As moms we are amazing.  On the surface, we make it look so easy as we juggle a million balls in the air without breaking a sweat.  But we are also a very harsh creature who quickly prey on the weaker of our species and tear them up if signs of inferiority appear.  Heaven forbid we admit we need help, can’t volunteer for something or worse yet, step away to take a moment for ourselves.  The instant one of our own does this; the others in the species quickly pounce and label them as the worst label…a bad mother.

Why are we so destructive to our gender and fellow moms?  My theory is if we see another mom falter, it secretly makes us feel better.  If they crumble and we are still standing (no matter how precariously), then we are at least better than someone.  Find enough moms to judge harshly and suddenly we are feeling pretty good.  And at the very least we feel like we aren’t the only ones failing at this moment.  My guess is even the kindest moms judge others.  We are all creatures who want to feel good and this is one way we can easily have a bit of pride in ourselves…albeit at someone else’s expense.

Personally, I can put on a pretty good act around others and look like I have it all together.  I often find myself trying to be super mom to prove to the outside world that I have my stuff together and to ensure I’m not judged as a bottom feeder bad mom.  Yes, a lot of times I find myself taking on extra tasks and putting on Oscar worthy performances to please others, but I am also my own worst critic.  Working from home creates guilt for me.  I feel like I don’t ever stop working and don’t enjoy those little moments with my family.   A lot of the harshest judgments I get are from myself.  Many nights I go to bed thinking I should have done this or that with my kids instead of doing work.  Then after I finish that thought, I feel I should have worked a bit more today too.  It is an impossible balance between work and family.  No matter what super hero tasks I complete and what things I do, I still feel like I am failing and drowning in the pressure and workload.

So what can be done?  First to my fellow moms, let’s stop being fake.  Admit when you are drowning.  If we are all a bit more honest than we can stop judging each other so harshly.  If the criticism stops, we can be free to be the parent we want to be.  No two families are alike and neither should our approaches to parenting.  Follow your gut, be who you want to be and stop being so harsh on yourselves.  Be happy, the time flies to quickly not to be.

With that said, I am going to probably keep over committing myself and being involved, but I won’t do it to put on a show.  Instead, know that I am doing it because I love it and I will be the first to tell you when to throw me that life-preserver.

Since we got married, we have worked very hard and built a really great life together.  Going into marriage, I thought we were entering the easy part.  Like a fool, I thought marriage was the reward for the hardships of dating.  How wrong I was.  Marriage is amazing but it is work, work and more work.  Every day you must decide to put work into your marriage and relationship if you want it to succeed and grow.  Luckily, we have both always said yes to the work.

I have had moments over the last seven years where I doubted my abilities to make it work and wondered if we would make it.  It wasn’t that I didn’t love my husband, but sometimes the obstacles seemed insurmountable.  But when we decided to marry we did it ” In Sickness and in Health, For Richer for Poorer and (as I like to add)… Through Wins and Losses.”  We made a commitment and promise to each other.  During the more difficult times, I always return to the feelings on my wedding day to remind me why we took this crazy adventure together.

These last seven years have been full of ups and downs, job changes, relocations, struggles, joys, more wins than losses and two beautiful little girls.  We have weathered moments that truly tested us as people and as a couple.  We have seen each other in our worst and best moments.  Yet, through it all, my love for Patrick has only grown.  Yeah, there are days where I may be a bit annoyed or frustrated by him (and I’m sure he would say the same thing), but we have always loved and respected each other and cherished our family and life.  We have too many riches to not fight hard for our life together.

Today I am feeling pretty blessed to have made it to this milestone.  Seven years seems like a big accomplishment to me but then again every anniversary is special when you look at the moments that brought you to that day.   I love our life so much right now and can’t wait for another seventy years together.

Happy Anniversary.

Our wedding day…

Life now…

L

In a world where celebrities names get weirder with each child and aim to be as extravagant as possible, it is refreshing to know some people understand the impact of name on a child.

As a parent, I wanted my kids’ names to be unique but not over-the-top.  I wanted the names to mean something beyond the standard definition in every baby name book.  My obsession became thinking of names and my husband took the responsibility of thinking of the ways it could be twisted later in life.

For our first child, one thing was certain, the name would have Rae in it.  My grandpa was Ray, my mom and my middle names were Rae.  I loved Rae and even contemplated changing my name (no, I am not a fan of Tina) to Rae.   No matter what, Rae would be used.  Once we knew it was a girl, we quickly decided on Raya in memory of my grandpa who I adored.  We then decided to pay tribute with the middle name to my grandma, Monabelle who I also love dearly.  Just like that, Raya Belle had a name.  To this day, I love her name and often use both names when talking to her.  It is a unique name (I’ve only heard ever heard of one other Raya and she spelled it differently).  It is also a name with family, love and wonderful memories behind it.  To us, it is the perfect name.  Amazingly, Raya fits her name too.  She is a little ray of light and energy.

Naming our second was much harder.  We still wanted a special and unique name.  I felt with Raya we had created a precedent of naming our child after family.  I wanted to pay tribute to other family members since we value family so much.  We were, however, low on usable names that would work for a girl and wouldn’t inflict teasing later.  After all, we had Marjorie, Mabel, Lowell, Wanda, Dorothy, Henry, etc… to work with.  Years down the road, I didn’t want to give this child a name that didn’t mean something but also didn’t want her disliking her ancestors because of her name.   I wanted a name that made me smile and not feel guilty of child abuse.

We took forever.  Even though we had nine months, we did not finalize her name till the week she was born.  We decided on Jamesyn Lou.  We had always leaned toward using James.  It was my husband’s grandfather and they were best friends.  The Lou added a southern flare and came from Patrick’s grandmas Dorothy Louise and Wanda Lou who are two amazing women.  I feared her name would be a bit to boyish but we changed the typical spelling to a more feminine form.  We loved it and how it paid homage to three more wonderful family members who meant so much.  Her name would give her pride and wonderful stories.   As was the case with Raya’s name, Jamesyn’s name really fits her.  Like her name, she is a bit more tomboyish but with a really sweet and loving feminine side to her.

If we have any more little ones, our next name may take a bit more imagination to create.  For now, we love our little girls, Raya Belle and Jamesyn Lou and we love the role models they will always have in their life thanks to the histories of their name.

Behind every person is a story.  I would love to hear the story behind your name.

Raya Belle                                                   Jamesyn Lou

I swear most days creep at a snail’s pace.  Some days I look at the clock and realize only twenty minutes have passed since my last glance.  Each day brings housework, real work and errands.  I squeeze in some fun time but even that drags some days.  Afterall, how many times can you do the same puzzle or play Memory.  Yet, as I look at my girls they seem to be doing everything, especially growing, in hyper-speed.

Raya started Pre-K 3 today.  This is the last class in her preschool before she heads to kindergarten next fall.  As I took her into her new room, tears ran down her cheeks and displayed her fear of something new.  She sat on my lap and cried because she didn’t want to be in that class.  As I comforted her, it took all my energy to not cry myself.  Truthfully, I didn’t want her there either.  Her reasons were due to anxiety at something new.  My reason was simple, I didn’t want her to grow up.  I wanted to freeze time and keep my first-born as my precious little girl forever.  We both pushed through our tears and said good-bye.  I have been glancing at the clock all day wondering how she is as my own heart is a bit sad at this new stage she started.

Then there is Jamesyn.  There is no anxiety on her part.  She is diving head first into independence and loving every minute.  Each day she masters a new word or a new skill.   I am constantly reminded of how fast she is growing.  Over the weekend, the realization of her independence punched me in the gut.  We were on a family trip and staying in a hotel.  Rather than make Jamesyn sleep in a crowded pack-n-play, I put her on a pull out bed.  After she fell asleep, I watched her for a bit and kept waking up to check on her.  She was so content, sprawled out on this big girl bed.  My littlest baby was one more step closer to out growing babyhood.  In my head big girl hotel bed was just a stones throw away from big girl bed in college.  It was gut wrenching.

Both my girls are growing into very independent young woman.  I know I can’t stop this growth, but I do wish I had the ability to freeze time.  As the days sneak past, the weeks and years fly by.  I hope as they continue to grow that I will continue to remember to enjoy the smallest moments because even those are gone too fast.  Maybe that is why I take a ton of pictures…that way when they are all grown up I will have those hard memories of their younger years to look back on and smile.

Years ago, a mom on my husband’s basketball team was watching her son play in his final high school game.  She looked at me and said, “The days go so slow and the years go so fast.”

Truer words were never spoken and I remembered them poignantly this week.

With this blog, my mind was blank.  I could amuse with stories about the girls, talk about the latest business growth or I could find an intriguing discussion.  As if the email gods heard me, my email beeped and I opened an article from Hybrid Mom Magazine entitled “Who’s A Better Mom?  You or Your Mother.”  Perfect.

I don’t know about you, but I always compare myself to my mother and strive to be half the mom she is.  I loved childhood.  I fondly remember it full of love, happiness and laughter.  But was that the reality or just the rose-colored glasses I now wear when selectively recalling a life before mortgages and responsibility?

My mom is how I describe the perfect mom.  She was always there when we needed her, held fun birthday parties (at home) each year, cooked meals from scratch every night, kept the house clean, wrangled three kids without breaking a sweat and never lost it or seemed stressed out.   She could sew an outfit, run us all over town, make beautiful crafts and manage to be a loving wife to my dad.  In short, she gave me an awesome role model for when I had kids but an impossible standard to reach.

As a mom now, I don’t know how she did it.  I only have two kids but it feels like ten most days.  Rarely, is a meal homemade, dog hair is frequently on our floors, I can’t thread a sewing machine, my kids watch t.v. so I can get something done and I keep the deodorant business alive with the amount of sweating and running around I do.  I make it through each day with a shot of caffeine, a lot of stressful moments and a occassional outburst.

While I will always think my mom was a better mom than me,  I don’t think you can or should judge moms against each other.  You certainly can’t judge two moms from different generations the same.  When we were kids, moms rarely worried about predators, too much internet exposure, spanking kids in public, childhood obesity, etc… etc…  Those things weren’t issues.  The world was simpler, you connected with people in person rather than 24/7 via facebook, twitter and texting, your cell phone (if you had the luxury of one) stayed in your car because it was connected to the cigarette lighter and your life had a lot less choices and technology.

As moms today, we have been conditioned to worry about everything and to compare ourselves to everyone.  Technology has taken away the ability to escape.  People have so many choices on everything from where to shop to how many t.v. channels there are.  Every parenting issue has a hundred books and perspectives on it.  Moms judge and criticize other moms openly.  Everyone, whether they mean to or not, is playing keep up or surpass the Joneses.  We have become a group always on, never slowing down and who is constantly competing against one another instead of working together.

So which mom would you want to be is the more appropraite question?  Would I would like to slow down, have fewer critics and be able to escape more?  Yes.  However, I also love the choices I have, the vast opportunities as a working woman and a mom and the variety in life.  (I especially like my Tivo.)  I guess I will take the good and the bad and just try to focus on loving my life, adoring my family and realizing all our situations are different and that I wouldn’t trade what I have for anything.

What about you?

Mom and I with my girls.

Going home is always an odd experience for me.  Indiana is home but I still feel like a visitor in someone else’s house.  I love going to Indiana to see family, eat at favorite places and just be happy.  I feel like my younger self, free of mortgages and work deadlines.  It is comforting there.  When I go back it feels like a big embrace…warm and loving.

I adore being around my family.  Time with them means fun, an ease you acquire from being around people who know your entire history and story.  It also means extra help with the girls.  I know I take advantage of my family when I am with them, but it is so nice to have people to lean on.  If I am totally honest, I think my girls prefer them to me anyway.  It is a special treat for grandma to read stories or for grandpa to play.  For me, it is a welcome reprieve from what is my daily grind of motherhood and balancing life with my two little tornados of energy.

This trip home had me very nostalgic.  Not only did we go to two reunions, catch up and re-tell old stories, but I also saw my girls reliving moments of my childhood.

During our visit, the girls did so many things I loved as a kid.  They took out-of-control rides with grandpa.  The bucking bronco that is my dad doesn’t move as nimbly as I remember, but the effect is still the same…lots of laughter.  They had tea parties with grandma and used the same tea sets I did.  We gathered around a fire for S’mores.  (Raya dived into those with gusto.)  There were so many moments where I got to see my childhood from a different perspective.  Tractor rides, art projects, the beloved “Cowboy Ride” and so many others reminded me how much I truly loved my childhood.  They also all made me want to be a kid again.   I only hope my children cherish the memories as much as I do.

Family time is so precious.  To be able to go home for a week and just be was a special blessing.  In today’s world, we rush around too much.  We consider ourselves “connected” to our loved ones if we get a text or a Facebook message from them regularly.  This high-tech and hectic world has eroded a lot of what is sacred about family time and made it more about being productive.  I am glad I had this little reminder to take a step back and put the electronics aside (except the camera that captured so many wonderful moments).  I am also glad I have such a great family and that we are truly connected in all the right ways.

My family…minus my husband who had to stay in Tennessee for work: