Friends, family and lots of drink

Mother's Day came and went and although I was kind of hoping it would be the greatest of all days. But, I went out with some girlfriends Saturday night, and not being the party animal I once was, I spent most of Sunday nursing a horrific hangover. My not-so fabulous day was totally my fault.

We did get together with some friends for a barbeque. Two of my greatest friends in the whole wide world, Heather and Hope, had their first babies last year and because of this we haven't really been able to hang out. They are new moms who haven't yet rediscovered life away from their bundles of joy and I completely understand that. Heather's son is 6 months old and Hope's daughter is 4 months old. All of us, and a few others, met at Hope's house with our families for a barbecue. I was really looking forward to having the kids play with each other for the first time.

Since my kids are the oldest of the bunch, I went to the party thinking that Ryan would be the most advanced baby there. Boy, was I wrong. At 6-months-old Heather's son is a power house. This little guy crawls around military-style like he's got someplace to go. Fast. I was so amazed at how mobile he was. It was crazy. At 6 months, Ryan was just rolling over from his back to his belly. Watch out world, this little guy is ready for action.

Ryan did manage to keep up, so the babies did play together. It was so much fun watching all the kids interact. Ryan and the little guy were crawling all over together. Sophia was, of course, the mother hen of the bunch. She would crawl on the floor and the babies followed. When she wasn't playing follow the leader, she was making sure every baby knew that I was Sophia's Mommy and they should keep their distance. "My Mommy. No. My Mommy," was would say eye-to-eye with the baby closest to me. Yikes.

Hope's daughter, who is 4 months old, is a good baby. She was a bit young to crawl around on the floor with the boys, but she was happy to watch.

I'm so happy my friends have children who are the same age as my kids. As new mommies, it’s hard to make time away from home. But with all our kids so close in age, it will make hanging out much easier as they get older. I'm looking forward to summer for picnics and future barbecues. I'm sure there'll be a time when we're going to amusement parks together.

And as the babies get older, my friends will have a little more freedom for Girls' Days. This will be better than any Mother's Day.

Oh, my husband did get me a pair of the most awesome sunglasses (as soon as I get a picture of them I'll show you) in the world and he cleaned the inside and outside of my car, so I did get more than hangover for Mother's Day. Those gifts combined with his incredible ability not to make fun of me or be upset with me for drinking too much the night before is a great reminder that I do have a super great husband.

I take it back. Good friends, great family time and a super husband (minus the hangover) makes for a pretty great Mother's Day.

My Mom: My biggest fan

** This is my post as seen on The Mercury's Mother's Day 2008 blog. I wanted to republish it for anyone who may not have followed the link.

My Mom: My biggest fan

There are some things your mother does that, as a child, you don't realize how important they are until you grow up. My mom has always been my head cheerleader and it wasn't until recently that I realized how important it was for me.

Growing up, my mom was always there for any, and every, silly event I participated. I never sat and waited for her to show up because she was always there in the audience. Waving and shouting things like "Yeah, Diane. Way to go!"

I don't remember too much about things I did as a really young child, but I know she was there for ballet and tap recitals, gymnastic classes, swimming lessons (lots of swimming lessons) and school assemblies.

It wasn't until high school that I really noticed my mom's presence. It started when I joined the color guard in high school. As weird and uncool as it was my mom was there 100 percent, and that made it not-so uncool for me. Having the love and support of my mom made my high school band experience a wonderful, fun time that was filled with opportunity and real life lessons.

One of the biggest lessons I learned was the one of commitment. When I first joined the color guard I had no idea what it was. I moved from Catholic elementary school to public high school in ninth grade. I only knew one person and that one person was in the band and since I had (and still have) absolutely no musical talent, the only way I could participate in the same extracurricular activity as my only friend was to join the color guard.

After the first practice, I wanted to quit. I didn't want to start at my new school doing what I assumed was the dorkiest activity there was. Plus, I had to go to band camp. In August … during the hottest week of the summer … to run around outside with a flag.

I wanted to quit that day and I told my mom. She told me that I made a commitment when I joined the band and people were counting on me to follow through with my commitment. She said if after the first year I didn't want to do it again, I didn't have to, but I had to give them the year. If it wasn't for those words, I would have missed out on so many opportunities I couldn't have had any place else.

I didn't quit and I continued performing in the band and in the off season I joined the indoor color guard for the duration of my high school years. It was fun and I made lots of friends who weren't dorky and uncool. Plus, I got good at it and I got to do a lot of traveling. It was an experience I'm glad I didn't miss.

During band and indoor guard season, my mom was always in the stands cheering as loud as she could. She took on the roll of band parent as best as she could. She went to high school football games to see the band perform the half-time show. She stood in the freezing cold week after week to see me perform in competitions. She was there for me when we had terrible performances and she would jump up and down and scream her loudest when we had great ones.

After high school, I went to college and she was just as supportive even though I was becoming an adult and pushing her away. She never became discouraged and now, through my adult years, she is as supportive as ever.

It's not just that she's supportive; it's that she is genuinely proud and interested in everything I do. From my wedding and the birth of my children, to new jobs and new homes, my mom has been there for me proclaiming to anyone who will listen that I am her daughter and she is proud of my accomplishments.

Most recently, I was talking to her about my blog. She said, "I'm a fan of The Mommy Diaries. I'm probably your biggest fan."

Yes, I know you are, Mom, and I love you for it. Thank you for always being my biggest fan, no matter what I did. I am the woman and mother I am today because of your encouragement. I can only hope that one day my own children can look back and say I was just as supportive as you were to me.

Thank you, Mom.

Overcoming the odds to bring families together

There was a time in the not so distant past that I didn't like her very much. Society would say I shouldn't like her very much and that our current relationship is extremely unnatural.

Some people would even say our entire family dynamic is completely crazy. I would say that without her, things wouldn't be the way they are today.

Who is she? She is the mother of my stepson and my husband's ex-wife. Her name is Bernadette.

When Jon and I first started dating, there was a power struggle between the two of us, as is common, I imagine, between ex-wife and new girlfriend … especially when there is a child involved. We didn't really talk and when we did it was a terribly tense situation.

However, what I learned from Bernadette is that the bond of family is way more important than any real or imagined power struggle. This is a lesson that many divorced families never learn or simply cannot learn.

It didn't happen overnight. It didn't go from us not liking each other one day to best buddies the next. It was a slow process. We didn't have any talk about it. I didn’t plan things to work out the way they did, they happened because Bernadette would not have it any other way. We were all a family whether we like it or not. She did it for her son and I am so lucky to have her as my husband's ex-wife. I couldn't imagine having to live a life full of anger and resentment between me and the mother of my stepson.

Study upon study will say that divorce is terrible on children. They feel guilt and they feel torn between their parents. Bernadette knew that it was not in her son's best interest for us to ooze hatred, so she made the extra effort to bring our families together.

It takes a lot of courage and determination to put your own feelings aside for the sake of your child. She did it without even batting an eyelash; or at least seemingly so. Because of her, Jonathan doesn't have a regular split family. Jon and Bernadette talk regularly about parenting strategies and his development (he'll be 15 in a few short months!). We get together as a family often. My daughter plays with her daughter all the time. We even have sleepover parties for the girls.

The dynamic of our family is so unusual to so many people that we are often asked how we do it. I've had co-workers ask me about it. Friends of Bernadette have asked her about it. Some of them don't even know how to talk to me when we all hang out together. Even my mom has told me she doesn't really understand our relationship. I think in time, everyone will get comfortable with our situation because it's just the way it is going to be. I think it's sad that more families can't do this, but I understand why.

It takes a strong mom to do what she did and I'm proud to include Bernadette in my family. Yes, it is unusual, but it works for our family. I think Jonathan is a better person for her efforts.

Happy Mother's Day, Bern.

My journey to motherhood

The truth is that I’m having a hard time writing my next mom story so I’m going to procrastinate and tell you my story, since, well, I am a mom, you know, and I do have a story that I haven’t shared.

This is my journey to motherhood.

My husband and I were married on April 21, 2001. I was 25 and he was 27. Shortly after the wedding, Jon and I had the conversation about starting a family. I said I wanted to have a baby before I turned 30. Jon wanted to be sure we could afford to have a baby, but agreed with the 30 part. So we waited, sort of.

By the end of 2001 and early 2002, we were actively trying to get pregnant. Month after month I failed. It quickly became a terribly dark time. After several failed attempts, I became depressed. Month after month my husband did the best he could to sympathizing with my pain. I wish I had the words to accurately describe this time in my life.

It became a burden not to be able to get pregnant. I started taking clomid and still couldn’t get pregnant. Friends began getting pregnant and having babies while the stress of not being able to have a baby was destroying the foundation of my marriage.

During this time, so few people surrounding me knew what I was going through. Jon and I told very few people about our baby plans. My family kind of knew, but we never really talked about it. Some of my friends knew what was going on, but I didn’t tell them too much, because, frankly, who wants to hang out with someone who complains every time you talk to them? Not me. So I kept everything inside. The few times it burst out were completely inappropriate.

In 2003, I went to the doctor and had this test done called hysterosalpingogram (HSG) to make sure my uterus was OK. It was. The doctor’s had no explanation for why I wasn't getting pregnant. The whole experience just made me even more upset.

If you can’t have a baby and you’re really trying to have one, it messes with your head. I started to feel like if I couldn’t have a baby, then why on earth was I even married? I was frustrated and stressed and in need of some serious help. I started therapy. My therapist was the most amazing woman on the planet. But as amazing as she was, my husband and I still separated in 2005.

We only separated for 9 months. During that time we were both in therapy and going to marriage counseling. I came to terms with the fact that I may never have children of my own and I learned to be OK with that possibility. I had worked through my anger, gotten rid of my stress and Jon and I decided we wanted to save our marriage.

Around this time, I decided that if I couldn’t have children of my own we would adopt a child. I didn't want to go through the stress of IVF. Our plan was to start the adoption process when I turned 35.

In October 2005, Jon and I moved back in together. That same month I got pregnant with Sophia. The pregnancy just may have been the biggest shocker of my life, just when I had come to terms with things, everything changed.

After Sophia arrived, I nursed her for a while, but when I went back to work after my maternity leave, we started her on formula and that’s when I started the pill.

Apparently, and this is something no one ever talks about, once you resume your period after having a baby sometimes things aren’t exactly in order. In my case, I had a period that just wouldn’t go away. I mean, seriously, it last two whole months. So I foolishly stopped taking the pill hoping that it would level out my hormones. I told my husband what I was doing. We figured it took so long for us to have Sophia that the odds of us getting pregnant again so soon were astronomical.

Obviously we were very wrong. My next cycle never started and that’s when we learned about Ryan. I couldn’t have been more surprised.

So, this is the extremely abbreviated version of my journey to motherhood. There is a lot here I never shared before and I'm a little nervous about this post. But, whatever, I think it's important to know that the journey to motherhood isn't easy, whether it was easy to get pregnant or not. I've experienced both. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter how the child got here be because the journey to motherhood is only the beginning of the journey of parenthood.

Beautiful on the inside and out

My mom always said that if you have one true friend in your life, you are truly blessed. I am indeed blessed.

My dear friend Tammy, has been a part of my life since the day I was born. Our mothers are friends and we were born exactly one month apart. She was born Feb. 5 and I was born March 5 of the same year. (Coincidentally, my younger brother was born May 1, 1984, and her younger sister was born July 1 of the same year. Weird, right?) So when I say we've known each other since the day I was born, that is a pretty literal statement.

We've always had a unique relationship. Each of us has our own lives and our own set of friends who generally don't intermingle, but we've always remained friends. As far as I can remember (now she might say different, I don't know), she and I have never had an argument or major disagreement.

She is also a mother I truly admire.

I have to admit that I have not always been a very nice person. Tammy is another person who got pregnant while my husband and I were in the midst of our pregnancy struggle. She and I planned (independently) to have a baby around the same time. She was successful and I was not.

When she called me to tell me her big news, I tried to be as happy as possible for her, but I was actually crying while saying I was happy. I was happy, I was just disappointed in myself, too. In hindsight, I should have been adult enough to wait until I got off the phone with her to cry, but if you've ever struggled to get pregnant (or keep a pregnancy) you know how emotional it can really be. I did apology for my behavior. I think it was the very next day when I called her in a much more composed state and told her how happy I was for her. I really was. The thing about Tammy is that instead of just accepting my apology or being upset with me, she told me she completely understood my reaction. She was not upset with me and we were able to get on with her pregnancy.

I'm not proud of some of my past behavior.

Anyway, Tammy is a terrific mother, wife and woman. She is a music teacher at an elementary school. She plays a variety of instruments that include the piano, bassoon, saxophone, violin and who know what else. She performs in concert bands and teaches music lessons. Her husband is an elementary school art teacher who moonlights as a "real" artist.

On top of all this, their son is the most pleasant and well-mannered boy I know.

What I really love about Tammy is that she is not afraid to admit when she's wrong, she accepts advice openly and is a fantastic listener. I wish I could be as good of a listener as she is because I think it would make me a much better person.

She is a fighter who will always stand up for her family. She has unshakeable determination to do what she feels in best for her family. I've never heard her say an outright bad thing about any member of her family or friends. That, my friend, is not a characteristic many woman have. I admire that trait in her.

Tammy is a beautiful wife, mother and woman. She's beautiful on the inside and the outside and she deserves an extra special Mother's Day.

***

Don't forget to share your mom story at The Mercury's Mother's Day 2008 blog. After you submit your story, let me know by commenting to this post or e-mailing me. I will be sharing stories here about my favorite moms through the rest of this week. I would love some company during this journey through motherhood, so please share your stories. After they are featured on The Mercury site, I will also post them here.

It takes strength to be a mother

My sister is one of my favorite moms. As a mother, I look up to her. I always have.

When we were young, my sister was probably my worst enemy. We fought like no one's business and, as my parent's can attest, we were terrible. She was popular and pretty and four years younger than me. I don't think she looked up to me, she was her own, independent person and didn't want me as a role model.

At 19-years-old, my sister got pregnant. She had just graduated from high school and had the world in front of her.

She called me on my birthday to tell me she was pregnant. I believe I was the first family member she told. To the horror of my mother, I suggested she get an abortion. I don't regret those words, but I am certainly glad she didn't have one because she gave birth to my nephew, Jimmy, and he is the coolest and he's my favorite boy on the plant.

When my sister got pregnant with her second son, Matthew (the second coolest little boy on the planet – next to Jimmy, of course), I was in a bad spot. My husband and I were going through a very rough patch that was caused partly by our two year struggle to have a baby. She called me on my birthday, again, and I cried. I was so angry at her for "accidentally" getting pregnant for a second time when I couldn't get pregnant even once.

I do regret my reaction to her news. If I were her, I probably would hate me for it. Somehow we overcame my selfish and childish reaction and she blessed me with the opportunity to be with her when she gave birth to Matthew. I couldn't believe how strong my sister was. I never saw that side of her before and I'm so glad I got to be there. Before that moment, I didn't know the strength it takes to deliver a baby.

After watching that unbelievable event, I walked out of the hospital room and said to my husband (who was waiting in the waiting room) that I was glad I hadn't gotten pregnant because there is no way I could deliver a baby. Three days later, I found out I was pregnant with Sophia. When I called my sister to tell her the news, she was so happy for me. She cried out of joy and I wish I would have done the same with her.

My sister now has an 8-year-old and a 2-year-old and she's raised both almost completely on her own. It takes a strong woman to do what she has done. Despite facing adversity that I could never have dealt with, my sister is raising her boys to be wonderful people. She works hard and she doesn't get enough credit for it.

This isn't nearly enough, but here goes anyway:

Carol, you are a wonderful mother and I don't think you are reminded of that often enough. You love your kids with a fierceness I admire and your children love you unconditionally. You have been through more than your years would ever suggest and you've kept your family together and happy despite the odds. I am so proud of you. Happy Mother's Day.

Mothers deserve more than just a day; How about Mother's Week

I think mothers deserve more than just a day. For all the work we all do, we should be celebrated for much more than 24 hours. So this week, I'm asking you to share your stories about your mother at The Mercury's Mother's Day 2008 page. Submit your story by e-mailing it to fausteileen0.mothersday@blogger.com or to efaust@pottsmerc.com It can be as long or as short as you like. You can even include pictures; just add them in your e-mail.

Don't be shy, give your mom the tribute she deserves. It's the least you can do, she did raise you, you know. After you submit your story, let me know by commenting to this post or e-mailing me. I will be sharing stories here about my favorite moms through the rest of this week. I would love some company during this journey through motherhood, so please share your stories.
I told my mom story and you can read it here. My post is called "My Mom: My Biggest Fan." Follow the link and you'll learn that I am not only a mother, but a pretty big dork too. But none of that ever mattered to my mom who was, and still is, always cheering for me.

Thanks, Mom.

Getting ready for Mother's Day

To get ready for Mother's Day, The Mercury is posting stories about motherhood on their Web site. Readers are asked to submit a post about how you feel about your mother. Read touching stories about mothers and share your own story. Click here to read a few sweet stories of motherhood.

There is also a list of special Mother's Day events. Go ahead, take a look.