zach n kali

True Confession:  I am a martyr mom.  I am not proud of this, but acceptance is the first step to recovery.  The martyr mom is the one who pushes on and tries to get everything done herself.  The martyr mom is the one who doesn't ask for help, but then gets frustrated when no one else steps up to the task.  The martyr mom is the one who, when told to take a break, says "just let me finish this" and then moves on to the next chore.  The martyr mom is the one who thinks she is "taking one for the team", but is in reality driving everyone else nuts. How do I know this?  Because I am the Martyr Mom.  Last week I hurt my hand, but I wasn't going to let that stop me!  There was too  much to get done!  The laundry wasn't going to do itself, the dishes weren't going to magically be clean, and no fairy was going to make dinner for us.  So I pushed through the pain, did three loads of laundry, unloaded/loaded/and hand washed ...

Working with a government organization definitely teaches you patience. Either that or it will drive you absolutely batty. This self-proclaimed control freak is stuck somewhere in the middle. It's 9:45 and I'm sitting here waiting for my 9:00 appointment with the Department of Child and Family Services. I have two options: 1)seethe internally until the social worker gets here, at which point I will put on a smile and assure here that no, of course it was no problem at all that she was 45 minutes late and didn't call! Or, I can take a deep breath, realize that her being late is not affecting my schedule at all - I don't have anywhere else to be and this would be the perfect time to tackle those dishes! I can be grateful that I have a flexible schedule and have the opportunity to be a full-time foster mom. Not everyone has this luxury, and if I can make the social worker's job a little bit easier by being flexible, then that should be reason enough. I know which atti...

It's time for an update from the recovering-control-freak. I just spent the last 30 minutes cleaning baby food off of the baby, the high chair, the floor, the walls, the table, and oh, that's right, me. Why? Because I couldn't let go. I'm having one of those "must be productive" days where I have 8 errands to run in a tiny amount of time. My day is budgeted into specific slots for each activity - lunch, driving, errands, driving, nap time, cooking, etc. Lunch was running into "getting ready" time, so I thought it best to keep spooning food into the baby's mouth, winding my way through flying baby arms and a head that kept swinging from side to side. It was like being on Star Tours. Normally I feel much more relaxed about lunch and enjoy watching Baby M try to maneuver the spoon into his ear. But time was of the essence today! Why? Because I was in Productivity Mode! Baby M, however, was in I'm-Big-Enough-To-Feed-Myself-Thank-You-V...

I used to be a control freak. Some of you who know me are probably scoffing and saying, “used to?”, but seriously, I am evolving. If there was ever a case for evolution, I would make a good study. Having a baby around definitely makes you rethink your priorities. I have been noticing it in the little things, and I thought I'd share a few examples: Control Freak Me: I have to take a shower! I'm going to check the mail – people will see me! Less-of-a-Control-Freak Me: I have to take a shower... sometime... Control Freak Me: You're not going to eat that right, it was on the floor! Less-of-a-Control-Freak Me: At least pick the cat hair off. Control Freak Me: We must eat three healthy square meals every day! Less-of-a-Control-Freak Me: I think I forgot about lunch... and possibly breakfast. Control Freak Me: Saturday is cleaning day! Top to bottom! Less-of-a-Control-Freak Me : We have guests coming over! Get the vacuum! Control Freak Me: Why w...