Let's Get Honest

Coffee Talk

Hey Mamas! Instead of a blog post we want to hear from you! Today is the Monday following daylight savings and with that it brings an extra dose of tired so today we want to know...

What are some of the funny/crazy/embarrassing things you've done because you, as a mom, were so tired? 

Leave your comments in the comment section and lets laugh together!  Go get a cup of coffee and share with us your stories!

(And as always please be kind to each other, rude or mean comments will be deleted)

Here are some stories from other moms! If you can relate to any of these tell us about it! 

Have a great Monday!


On summercamp and last nursling.

'Tis another season. 


Motherhood is very much like the earth. Always changing. Always succumbing to the next phase, the next weather change, the subsequent ebbs and flows it must keep enduring for the sake of the life it sustains.  



Lately, I have been feeling the winds of change pushing me forward to embrace another season I'm not quite ready to embrace.  


Yesterday may have been the last time I ever nurse a child. Maybe. I didn't consciously think it may have been when I was in the midst of that thankless event I've come to take for granted as much as I do breathing. It's just become apart of every day. As normal and predictable as a new load of dishes and laundry. It's just always there for me. Waiting. But I didn't consciously decide. And I don't want to, because I don't want to presently be aware of the moment when it ends. If it has ended, well, it's in the past now. 


I've been experiencing some awful weaning symptoms. Awful. I never experienced any of this before because there was always new life in my body when weaning was complete. My body, anxiously anticipating the new life that would need that sustenance upon first breath.  



Its a time to mourn. A time to reflect on what I've been able to accomplish. Six yearsof combined nursing is no small feat. And it almost didn't begin. I wanted to give up every second in those first weeks of my first borns life outside the womb. I hated Motherhood. 


But motherhood has wrapped me in its web. I am no longer me without motherhood. And I've given life six times. Six times God has given. Five we've enjoyed and nurtured on this earth. One, is in His grace. Which is why that child is named Grace. And I don't regret any of this. Any of these times of hormonal hell. Because it means I've been blessed beyond what measure I could've sought for myself. These sacrifices are investments. And I've made sure, thru God's grace and mercy as He's given me the ability, to make sure the investment was an "all-in" sort of one. 



Soon, that child I wanted to give up on, my firstborn, he's going to summer camp in six weeks. Without me. And I look around and I think, "wait, how can all of this be over? How can you be this age, with this height, and this independence? I just started, I thought. I just got the hang of this "mothering you" thing. I was just sitting in that white rocker sobbing with you as you suffered with colic everyday for months."  


My brother is soon to welcome his first child in mere weeks from now. The beginning of a journey that I recall nearly ripped my heart out. It still does. And I miss the beautiful naivety that I held so tightly going into that season. I wish it lasted just a tad longer. It's exciting for him, but I can't help but ache knowing those experiences are likely over. 


I can't believe it's been 10 years. Ten years of sustaining life with my own body. Ten years of literally being the home where tiny bodies swelled at the sacrifice of my own.  



And now my body doesn't understand. It doesn't understand why the giving of life is stopping. It doesn't remember how to be just a giver to one solitary life, my own. 



I can't help but feel out of sorts with it. It is something I will greatly miss, and secretly hope it's not the last. You think I'm crazy? That's fine. But as much as it's taken from me, I will always silently hope that maybe there will be that one more time. But if this is the last, if it must be so, my hope will lie in the fact that I can be proud of all the giving I've done. I can be proud of the health my children possess and the super-glue like bond I have and will always have with all of them. I gave it all up for them. I did. And I still will. In different ways. 


I must keep savoring Lego's in short pockets, little girls dancing in circles, and the crawling into lap times, because those are leaving me quickly as well. A little more time, and those strong winds that take my breath away, will blow those times away as well. 



Ive missed a lot this past year because I haven't been able to navigate the way I've felt with much grace. What I've found is, though, that while these children may never remember our nursing relationship, they intrinsically know, they know how much I gave up for them. And they've given it right back to me this past year.  



They have become the most attentive, giving, thoughtful group of little humans that God ever made. I've gotten more random homemade cards, tea brought to me, dishes done, laundry folded, hugs and I love you's, gracious words, and heart-filled prayers than I would've ever gotten otherwise. 



These children love me  (almost) as much as I love them. The new season must come. Motherhood continues in new stretching ways. There will still be newness found if I have the eyes for it. And there's still a lot of work to be done, yet. But the seasons do come all too quickly, and I do wonder if it ever gets easier for a mothers heart to endure the breathlessness that wind of change brings. 



I cant help but think that maybe it doesn't. 


<3, Alicia.  


When Granite Countertops Aren't As Cool As They Seem.

This is kind of hard for me to write. I never want to come across as this miserable, ungrateful, blob of human whininess and discontent. So please understand that I always speak from my heart, and my heart has been a bit unsettled this year. In fact, it's been thru more than all of my previous years combined. So here's more of that honesty you've come to expect out of me...



Almost two years ago, we put our first home up for sale.  


Soon after we initially bought it, (years prior), we felt sick about it. We knew, after a better understanding of one another, that we didn't want to live in a "cookie-cutter" neighborhood, in the middle of NASCAR country, and five feet from our neighbors.  


Add to that fact, we had countless massive tumbles down the stairs [via the children], and two of those incidents ended up as ER visits and required stitches. We couldn't wait to move. I mean, we couldn't WAIT!!!  



I was always embarrassed of my kitchen in that house. I would see my "old friends" show pictures of their homes and kitchens and think "someday, I want granite countertops like they have...". In fact, I rarely had anyone over because I hated the countertops that much. I just was embarrassed. 


The countertops were HORRIBLE. Cheap. Bleach white. (Why...I will never understand...) Anything red spilled on the counter, it would leave an impossible stain. They were Formica.  They were so hard to keep clean. I was never proud of my kitchen, except when I had a fresh bouquet of flowers overpowering the ugliness of the countertops. 



When our house sold in five days and we found (what we thought was) our dream house back here in the woods, I was floored when I saw that the kitchen was the only room that was updated. And...there was granite. The granite I always wanted.  


I knew, for a FACT, that if we moved here and I had this kitchen, that ne'er a dreary face it should see.  


So this year has taught me several...well, thousands of things, actually. One being, I was insanely more happy with both life in general (and motherhood) back in the neighborhood house with stark-white, stain-gripping, cheap countertops than I have been here, with my dream kitchen.  


And for the record, it is not easier to clean. In fact, I find it more challenging than before.  



Aside from that, I realize that {truly} happiness is never, ever found in what we think we should have and don't. I may have my kitchen, but I traded those countertops for no bathtub, no mirror, and a time capsule for a shower in my bathroom. I also have partially painted rooms and those accordion like closet doors that pinch your hands everytime you aren't perfectly careful shutting them. (And let me tell you about some pain...)  


I say this, I'm putting this out here, because maybe you're discontent in where you currently are. Maybe you're looking at others thinking, "if only...". But don't. Please don't. Because life isn't about our comfortableness, our wishes coming true, or seeing ourselves as happier in another setting altogether.  


Case in point, my best friend, she doesn't even have countertops in her kitchen. Nope; her countertops have been sheets of plywood for years now. I know she won't mind me telling you this because she doesn't seem to care much. It doesn't stop her from being the most giving, hospitable, amazing, loving person on the planet. She welcomes others into her home, she's not embarrassed, and she sends more meals out to others than she actually makes for herself.  


So, I then consider all of the times that I could've opened up my home and didn't. All of the times that I could've made someone a meal, but didn't because I hated spending time in that kitchen. We also ate out more than we should've because, well...you get the picture... 


The thing is, as I reflect on my life in that house, I wish I could go back and have just one more dance party with my sons in that kitchen. One more hallway filled with piles of clothes on laundry day because the laundry closet was exactly that, a closet. I wish I could watch my son climb that ONE single tree in our backyard one more time. Because now that one favorite tree has been replicated 1,000 times in this yard. 


Having coming to a full knowledge of these things, I'd gladly give back my granite kitchen for a flight of stairs and a closet for a laundry room if it meant that I could have my zest for life back. I would trade it in a hot second.  


But since I can't trade it, I'm going to have to find it here. And I'll look at your photos of your kitchens, old cabinets, and countertops and hope that you are content with just that. Because, I think your kitchens are just beautiful. They truly are. And I hope your lives are even more so, because you could really care less about some granite.