Has your life’s Exclamation Point . . . become an Exasperation Point?  The highlights of life can be sabotaged by discontentment, discouragement and frustration.  Sometimes we have to re-arrange the way we do things, in order to boost the energy we need to catapult us to greatness.

When I worked in PR, everyday was crazy, exciting, unpredictable and full of “pats” on the back or “kicks” in the butt; one way or the other, you knew where you stood.  Raising children is a little different.  Often times, nothing too exciting happens during the day – from teaching them Math and having late night talks, to throwing in some “moral character” with a splash of discipline and fun activities.  I’ve worn the heels, gone from suits to sweats and am now somewhere in the middle.

On any given day, I find myself researching a new business venture, catching up on 6 loads of laundry, emailing friends to plan girl’s night out, having a conference call with other moms to discuss a class party, while thinking about how I’m gonna cook chicken for the 3rd time this week, when it occurred to me:  Is this my life?  Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy, the deep kind of happy that a few bad days or set of circumstances can’t steal.

But my life needed a tune up, like a musical instrument or attitude adjustment.  I love my husband; he’s very supportive, loving and fun to be around, and as a bonus, he’s good looking.  I have a small core of really good friends.  I have 4 kids that are loud, fun and interesting.  My life is full, but I knew with the tools and resources I had, things could be better.  I laid on the bed one day and just explained to John how I felt.

WITHOUT fear or threat that perhaps he had not provided a good life for us, he did a little research (another great quality of his – thoughtfulness) and by morning handed me a book, that has taken me on quiet an interesting journey, to fine-tune my happiness from mediocre to deep contentment, where people want to know why you’re smiling.   My quest began with:  The Happiness Project, a book by Gretchen Rubin.

I’ve heard it said:  When a student is ready to learn, the teacher will appear.  Happiness is a state of mind.  Per Webster’s dictionary, happiness is a state of well being, a feeling of contentment, joy, satisfaction or pleasure.

I felt this, but not to its full capacity.  My mom is always reminding me that my calling here on this earth (no matter what position I hold in or outside the home) is to invest in the hearts of my children.  It’s not about recognition, fighting for a position on the corporate ladder, the need to feel appreciated by the outside world or add another gold star to my collection, but it’s about devoting your time and energy into raising healthy, Godly, well adjusted children that will go into the world with confidence, knowledge, and a sense of community.

But in order to do this, Mama needs to be happy!  And if Mama ain’t happy, well . . . you get the gist.  The first category in the Happiness Project is:  To Boost Your Energy.  To be honest, I’ve never been so tired in my entire life.  Before kids, I trained for a marathon, raced in triathlons and had endless energy.  Now, it’s a different story.

“The Happiness Project” lists 4 things that are needed to “Boost Your Energy:

1) Go to Sleep Earlier

2) Exercise Better

3) Toss, Restore and Organize

4) Tackle a Nagging Task Early

I don’t know about you, but all my life, I’ve gone to bed late, put exercise on my “To Do” List (and rarely crossed it off).  I allow that pesky task to haunt me all day (hoping it will just go away – of course it gets bigger and steals my joy).

It’s like a perfect storm – just as the kids are saying “Mom I’m Hungry (after they just ate) you open the closet – and out springs jackets, scarves and a skate board into the floor, about the time the door bell rings and unexpected company has arrived.  Yikes.  You feel conquered, overwhelmed and under pressure.  Then comes the guilt . . . I’m a terrible mom, how will my kids turn out . . . whaaa whaaaa whaaaa!

1st Month’s Challenge

Challenge 1) Sleep Earlier:

I began going to bed earlier.  Can you say:  Hard.  I starred at the ceiling and noticed all the blinking lights in the room, from the phone to the clock to my lap top, it was like the “Vegas Strip.”  Some people count sheep:  I was counting loads of laundry.  Your body has to be reprogrammed.  But with my next challenge, sleep came earlier and sleep came easier.

Challenge 2) Exercise Better:

I’ve never liked waking up early.  My dad always said “the Sunrise is so Beautiful.” I figure the Sunset looks much like the Sunrise, so I’m ok with that.  But, in order to exercise better, I began taking the kids to school, so I could just keep going – head downstairs and begin working out.  The first week, I didn’t like it.  I felt angry, tired.  The “Work Out” guy’s voice on the DVD annoyed me. But then I created my favorite playlist on my ipod, for better motivation.  Now that I’ve created this routine, I enjoy the time for me.  Plus, when 6:30am rolls around, my eyes just pop open.  Your body gets use to what it knows, getting up and working out.

Challenge 3) Toss, Restore and Organize:

My bedroom closet had become  “Central Station” for things that didn’t have a name, a home or description.  Honestly, I found things I should have taken a picture of and tried to figure out its name on Google.

I had a hard time letting go of comfortable underwear – the kind your mom says you NEVER want to be wearing if you end up in the Emergency Room.  It was hard giving away those red shoes you’ve never worn, but are waiting to find that fantastic dress to match it.

I found parts to toys I didn’t know we had, books I’ve never read,  snack wrappers, gifts that had never been given. . . . and the list goes on.  It took 3 days to cleanse my closet, but in the process , it cleansed my mind.  I found 10 incredible outfits to choose from vs. dredging through piles and baskets of wrinkled things, to discover one sock, jeans I couldn’t wear or a bad concert t-shirt.  Difficulties like this, make your head hurt, especially when you’re in a hurry and need to be somewhere 10 minutes ago.

Challenge 4) Tackle a Nagging Task Early:

Between emails I needed to write, bills that needed to be paid, a conversation that needed to be had or a mess that needed to be cleaned, it haunted my thoughts all day.  It drove me crazy.  Now, I wake up, conquer the the task and feel good about the VICTORY, early on.

Motherhood is NOT easy.  Have you ever spun so many plates or juggled so many schedules?

Probably not, but it’s also Fulfilling and Fun.  Your cup is not full, it’s Overflowing. And if someone came in right now and said:  “I’ll take your place if you’re not happy”  We would karate chop them into a million pieces.  It’s ok to complain, but it’s most important to jump back on the saddle.  Lord willing, this position is for many years to come, thus we need to find that Deep Happiness and Contentment, so when we’re teaching our kids “Life’s Lessons” we’ll find ourselves – Whistling While We Work.

Wanna Boost Your Energy?  Start with you!  You are the family’s “Hub of Communication” the CEO of your household.  Take charge . . . GIRLS!  In cleaning those closets and exercising for you, you’ll feel Accomplished, Organized and Victorious.  Rid your life of Exasperation Points and Make them Exclamation Points to your Happiness! You are More than Conquerors.

Scripture:  Phil 4: 11-13

I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through Christ who gives me strength.

People ask each other all the time:  What do you do for a living?  They see the car you drive, the house you live in, the clothes you wear, the schools your children attend, the teams they play, the size of your TV screen and the list goes on.

I had an SUV for years and loved it, until I had my 4th child; and while an SUV can hold all 6 of us, there was no room for the groceries, strollers and all the other stuff that looks like you’re moving, every time you leave the house.  So when you take out the 3rd seat, all you can carry is your kids, purse and bottle; and that’s just not gonna cut it.

So we had to buy a minivan. I cried the week before we bought it, because for some reason I had attached the fact that I would be driving a Mini Van to the fact that I was loosing any cool factor I had left in me.  (sorry for offending others who love their many van – But this is how I felt).  First, went the little black dress and heels, then the purse turned into a diaper bag, slash luggage, my hair went from stylish to a pony tale and my car went from hip to less hip, and then I gained hip . . . . . but in the wrong place.  : (

My mom said to basically “get over it,” she explained that these are just tools needed to get you from point A to point B for this phase in your life. Well I hadn’t thought of it that way.  I thought I was loosing my identity, but if my identity was wrapped up in material things that can be here today and gone tomorrow, something needed to be adjusted.

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Who you are is made up of many factors: good character, great reputation and family name, are you charitable, do you help those in need, are you a good friend, are you trustworthy and honorable?

You watch commercials that show a husband and wife in the Caribbean, rolling around in a bed that’s sitting in the middle of the beach, while gazing into each other’s eyes and you think, “I should be there, not at Jungle Joe’s bouncing on a trampoline”.  Don’t let the marketers fool ya.  Nobody likes sand that much!

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The grass is not greener and everyone has, what seems like slow moments, lulls in life, but not forever.   Life is Not passing you by.  You are the real deal.  You are Living Life.  Everyday Vacations, All the Ice Cream You Can Eat, driving a Roadster and Trump Tower living is NOT REAL LIFE.  Now if you get to enjoy those things, then great.  It’s a bonus, but not everyday reality.

Suddenly my attitude changed:  These are phases in life and they last for only a moment, so who cares about whether you have a mini van, a smaller house than you want or a piece of luggage full of bottles, bibs and burp rags.  The little black dress will eventually return, the diaper bag will become a cute purse once again and things begin to fall back into place as life progresses.  Change is constant, so be flexible.

Who cares that the leather furniture has scratch marks or the carpet is 10 years old.  Just embrace the happiness around you, the joy of your kids telling funny jokes, your husband coming home from work, happy that you are happy; know that there is always a time and place for newer, faster stuff . . . . grander vacations and more free time, but while your in this phase of life, embrace it, wherever you are.  Jump your cool-self into that minivan and embrace the Adventure!

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P.S. Now that I have a mini van, I love it. Convenience is key!  I still love wearing a pony tail, my diaper bags are more fashionable and I occasionally pull out the little black dress and enjoy a night on the town, just not in a bed on the beach.  : )

The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever.  1 John 2:17

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School is out!  Sounds exciting right.  Vacation, endless fun, afternoon naps, sleeping in, no pressing commitments . . . end of Story!

But that wouldn’t be REAL Life, would it?  The honest answer is probably a mixture of fun, fighting, boredom, re-learning some “thankful” lessons, messy house, making a million snacks and enjoying the slower moments of life.

Often times I envision something a little more “Norman Rockwell” during the holidays.  Those paintings always captured the essence of the holidays:  Everyone is happy, very little complaining, the meal turns out great, the house is beautiful and clean, except for us, it’s more of a Chevy Chase “Christmas Vacation.”  Traditional food, kids flying down the stairwell in a box or bean bag, and the UPS guy blows his horn as he passes our house, watching one of the kids fall out of a tree.  Our neighbors must REALLY Love Us!!

My dad told me once that I have the “Little House on the Prairie” idealistic mentality, where I think everything should fall into place with little effort, everyone sits down for dinner together on time and so on.  When he brought this to my attention, I felt hurt, as if he had burst my “Bubble of Hope” that one day this could happen.  In retrospect, he was saving me from a life of heartache and let downs. Now that I know this about myself, I’ve made some mental changes.  Changes that prepare me for those sand traps in life I make for myself when I hold things to idealistic measures – built-up beliefs I’ve made in my head regarding “Mary Poppins” on Christmas Day.

Life is What it Is!  Its sort of like a house:  It’s sometimes messy and disorganized, often delightful and happy, has its occasional technical mishaps, but for the most part, we wouldn’t change it for the world.

On Christmas day, I envisioned the kids running around, playing quietly with toys, eating the cookies we made, watching movies on the couch . . .

Instead, they were skate boarding through the kitchen, while one was TRYING to play a violin, the other a piano (on disco rhythm) and the baby was being licked in the mouth by the dog.  Not what I envisioned, but that’s ok, We’re all together, happy, healthy and loving one another.  I’m Thankful.

So, now that school is out, relax, be flexible, it’s ok to let the house go for a day or two,  enjoy a little HGTV, maybe some “Mary Poppins” and let Life be What it is!  Be Thankful.

Moms work harder than anyone I know. Whether you work in or outside the home, it’s become a 24 hour job. Dishes, Laundry, School Projects, Manager Meetings, Sports Activities, Cooking . . . I can feed my 3 boys and 1 hour later, they’re starving! And those 2am wake up calls – when your child is just NOT tired and they want to share this with you or you wake up to them hovering over your face. That’s always fun!

For some reason, when the kids wake up in the middle of the night, they always come to my side of the bed to tell me they need to “go to the bathroom.” Hello! It’s rare, but even the dog knows that if he has an emergency in the middle of the night, he comes to me, dancing like a jackal, because (though he eats only dry dog food) someone who will remain nameless (my mom) felt sorry for Max and fed him a block of cheese. I’ve never seen a dog hip hop and go crazier at 2am! eh hum! Mimi is sleeping peacefully in bed, while the dog is dancing around me, hollering in a high pitched voice, as if every second counts!

So, plan something fun for you! This is a “Guilt Free” Zone; guilt is NOT Allowed. Write down the top 5 activities on your dream list: Big or small, expensive to least expensive, for a week, a day or a few hours – find time for you.

Everything has a reset button: For example, you wash the car and a week later, it needs to be cleaned out again, the pantry needs to be re-organized and the laundry has to be cleaned, and the garage – well that’s another story. As the world turns, these are the days of our lives: we need to find time for ourselves, in order to keep the “better you” at the top of the list for everyone else’s sake.

When you board a plane, the stewardess comes on the loud speaker and announces that “in case of an emergency” place the air mask on your face first, so you can assist your children. If Mama goes down, everybody’s going down. If you don’t take care of you, then who will take care your kids, your spouse, your community? If you take care of yourself first, then you are just a better version of YOU! What should we expect: Peace, contentment, happiness, patience, a better perspective.

When we live in constant chaos and busy-ness, we’re feeding something that’s gonna grow into a “Venus Fly Trap. It’s gonna eventually snap up its prey. Well, that can’t be good! But if we invest in ourselves, perhaps a weekend retreat, a one hour massage, a long drive in the car with a coffee and our favorite music, a trip to the beach, a night out with the girls, a date night with your significant other, then everyone will benefit.

If you’re really desperate, you may be thinking, a grocery store run, alone is HEAVEN. Ok, that’s pretty bad, but sometimes its the baby steps that get us walking in the right direction.

Heck, your family is probably thinking “Go, please!” Give your “Mom Membership” card a rest, go put on something that makes you feel sexy and confident; find that cute girl inside and be selfish, for the sake of those around you. Get out there and do something Fun, For YOU!!

Here’s to Adventure . . . . . and Cute Heels!

The 4 year old dressed himself for Church

with one tennis shoe and one Croc.  Didn’t notice until lunch.

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I woke up one morning to the sound of all the kids in one room.  Turns out, they were all upstairs in the babies’ crib, where they had gotten a hold of a large Family-Sized bag of Dorito chips and busted that thing Wide open.  Everyone, including the baby was covered in ORANGE from head to toe.  They looked like little mascots for the GATORS.  They were giggling and crushing orange chips all over the place.

As I told my mom this story in frustration, she said:  Did you get a picture?  I’m like . . . a picture?  They made a mess, are you kidding?  She said:  It’s just STUFF.  It can be washed, but without a picture, it’s just a memory.  Huh!  I hadn’t thought of it that way.  I usually thought of myself, how it was more work for me to fix up, wash up and and clean up.  But if I switched gears and focused on them, it would be a funny story for later, and not so much of a downer for the kids living in the moment.

So next time you see your little one coloring their face on picture day or drawing on their bedroom wall, out of creativity and not sheer maliciousness, make a big deal out of it! Take a picture and then show them how to wash it off with Mr. Clean’s Magic Eraser.  Memories are great, but a picture is worth a 1000 words.  Start clicking!

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I have a long list of exciting things I want to do before I kick the bucket, but there’s one regret that I wish I could fix.  But as we know, life offers no do-overs and for this, I have to make my peace.

Growing up, I felt like a tall giraffe in a glass store, awkward and out of place.  If there was something to be broke, I broke it.  I could stumble on air and fall.  Quiet clumsy, It was like: Watch Watch, crash . . . break.

My mom took my sister and I to church, where I began making friends, getting involved in youth group, rehearsing for plays, and so on.  This is when I met Mr. Garvin and Ms. Wadie, (with funny names) an older couple that would change my life forever.

They would invite us to their house to stay the weekends, after church or weekdays if school was out. When I entered their property, I left all worries at the front gate. They lived on a huge farm with lots of cows.  When you’re little, everybody looks old, but I think she was only in her late 50’s and Garvin in his mid 60’s.

I felt like I had hit the jack pot.  The church was full of kids, but they chose us. I don’t know why, but it didn’t matter because they were mine and I was theres.  I felt so special at their house.  Ms. Wadie taught us how to make fun desserts, can sweet pickles and make a mean “molasses pancake breakfast.”  Mr. Garvin was like the Avon man for men.  He drove down the dirts roads and sold men’s cologne, men’s hats and clothing, hair products, you name it.  He was a tall, medium build guy, sort of gruff-looking with full gray hair and a smile.

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He had a shed, slash home office out back that housed a mannequin, an office desk, dial up phone and adding machine; my sister and I would pretend to run our own business and make deals.  And when we got tired, Mrs. Wadie would send us out to the barn and we would make tunnels out of hay bails.

One day Mr. Garvin unveiled a Go Cart that had been hidden in the barn.  A treasure we had spotted in the past, but hadn’t been cranked up in years and didn’t know if it even worked.  He explained that they got it for their grandkids long ago, but because they lived in another state, the visits were few and far between.  I dreamed about -what it was like to be blood related to Mr. Garvin and Mrs. Wadie.  How lucky their grandkids were, to be able to have them as their grand parents.  But I was lucky because I got to spend many weekends with them.

Wadie never hollered, never got angry and was always sweet.  You couldn’t twist her arm to say anything bad about anybody.  She never gossiped, was always honest and had the patience of Job.  But there was one thing that could make her mad.  Don’t touch her feet.  I did one time and got this mean look that I never wanted to see again.  It actually seemed as though the “mean look” pulled energy from her body.

When I was 11, my real grandpa died.  I never knew anyone that had died.  And though he was sick, I hadn’t expected him to pass.  I loved my paw-paw and was devastated that I would never see him again.  He and I use to drive the tractor and bail hay all day long.  We were close.  I stayed at Mrs. Wadie’s house for what seemed like a week, during all the funeral plans and endless errands.  One day, while looking through old records in the living room, I discovered “Swing Low, Sweet Chariots.”  I listened to that song for hours and cried.  It was depressing and comforting all rolled into one. Mrs. Wadie must have heard me play it over and over.  That house was tiny, but she knew I needed time to myself and never came in once, never interrupted, just let me be.  I knew it and she knew it.

Mr. Garvin was quiet a bit older than Wadie and was retired from running a grocery store, where they met and got married in their older years.  He would get up in the middle of the night, in boxers, talking to himself, and scratch his back like a bear on the hallway post, up and down, up and down.  I used to giggle because he had no idea anyone saw him.  I don’t even think he was completely awake for that matter.

They use to have snoring competitions and boy did it get loud.  Neither of them slept in the same bed or the same room, for that matter, because they said the other snored too loud, but believe me, either one could have won that contest.  Once, Mrs. Wadie quit snoring really loud and I thought she was dead.  I got out of bed and leaned over her face to see if she was alive.  When she woke up, I was hovering over her.  In her quiet voice and startled eyes, she said:  What are you doing?  I said:  I thought you were dead.  She just rolled over and went back to snoring.

Mrs. Garvin use to take us with him on his rounds, to check on the neighbor’s cows or visit friends.  We would hop into his old red truck and drive down all the dirt roads and hollows, knowing our next adventure was around the corner.  I remember Mrs. P down the way.  Her husband was a doctor and they were the sweetest folks. She had long gray hair that was always swooped up like a messed up bird’s nest.  With a smile and kind voice, she usually met us in the driveway. When we stopped by, they would always talk about their grandkids, how proud they were of their children,  were never in a rush and always had time for impromptu drop-ins.

Then late one night, the phone rang.  The kind of late when no one should be calling unless something was wrong.  It was Mrs. P frantically hollering:  He’s gone!  He’s gone!  We didn’t know who was gone.  By the time we got there, Dr. P had had a heart attack on the floor and our preacher was doing CPR until the ambulance arrived.  This would be my 2nd dealing with death.  We rode behind the ambulance, trying to keep up, as it ran all the red lights.   The siren was at an ear piercing level.  It felt like the slowest and fasted ride I had ever encountered.  When we got there, Mrs. P was crying and begging God not to take her husband and I had no words.

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I will never forget the Dr.coming into the waiting room shaking his head, saying He didn’t make it.  We had just seen Dr. P the day before.  As she heard the news: She fell to the floor and kept asking:  What am I going to do?  I wanted to fix it, but Mr. Garvin and Mrs. Wadie just held her and cried.

That afternoon, Mr. Garvin tuned up the Go Cart and we took off, my sister and I, screaming and Ya hooing all over the cow field that day, hitting thin hard-shelled cow patties and watching them blow up as we drove over them. We chased cows, hit all the bumps and flew over all the hills we could find and it felt liberating.  We didn’t have a care in the world, it was just us, the cows and the wind that day.

Garvin got a call not too long after that.  His only grandson had been killed in a car accident.  He was test driving a Porsche and it flipped on the interstate.  I think that was the saddest day of his life.  I wanted to fix the pain, but nothing could.  I felt a little guilty about being there, sort of being the surrogate grandchild, especially when his grandchild had been taken from him, but somehow, we both fit the bill for each other that day.

Not long after, Wadie came to my house.  My parents took her out on the boat, where we went with friends to “The Swing,” the Mountain Dew swing to be exact, which consisted of about 7 frayed ski ropes tied together and hanging from a huge leaning oak tree.  The only way you could get to it was by swimming up to the bottom of the steep embankment and grabbing tree roots.  Then you would grab the ski ropes, climb a little higher, jump on the swing and hoped to goodness your butt didn’t drag the ground until you could swing out over the water and drop.  It was loads of fun, mostly because you feared greatly for your life.

Wadie had borrowed one of my mom’s one piece bathing suits.  I had never seen her in one and frankly was shocked when she agreed to go swimming.  She put that bathing suit on and we had a laugh because the pattern was bright white magnolias on the butt and when you bend over, it looked like they were blooming.  She didn’t know that, but we did.  It didn’t matter who wore that bathing suit, the flowers always bloomed.  We were on the boat when I asked Wadie if she’d be willing to swing from the rope.  With her great big eyes, she said:  NO WAY!  I laughingly said:  “I’ll never come to your house again if you don’t go.”  I was kidding.  Hey, I was 11.  She climbed out of that boat, swam to shore and made her way up the bank and swung over the water.  In that moment, I realized just how much she loved me.  She took that challenge seriously and I was awestruck by her quick response.

HERE IS MY REGRET.  As time went by, we grew older, moved away, got married and never really kept in touch.  They were always in my heart and quiet frankly changed my life for the better in many ways, but I never told them how I felt.

A few years ago, Mr. Garvin popped up in my mind.  Not sure why, but he was on my heart.  I thought about him everyday and felt like I needed to write him a letter: tell him how much he meant to me, how he changed my life and how much I appreciated him taking me in and loving me like I was his own.  I felt a since of urgency to write, but I kept thinking I”LL DO IT tomorrow.  Then I wrote the letter, but didn’t have a stamp or his new address.  I had that “hand sweating, heart beating” do it now, but never did.  Then one day, just like that, the urgency was gone.

A week later, while visiting my dad a few hours away, I told him about not being able to get Garvin off my mind and how I FINALLY wrote him a letter (much later than I had anticipated, but better late than never, right).  I sent it off yesterday.  He said:  Oh Stephanie, Garvin DIED LAST WEEK!

OH, My heart sank.  I wanted him to know how much I loved him, how much he meant to me, but it was too late.  I had all the time in the world months earlier and yet I waited till it was too late.  My dad tried to encourage me by saying how much it would mean to Wadie to read the letter, but I should have listened to my heart, to God’s prompting.

Do you have someone you’ve been thinking about, but haven’t made the call, because you don’t know what to say, you don’t have their address, a stamp, or the time to make a quick visit?  Perhaps it’s “Their Fault.”  We can come up with a 1000 excuses, but it doesn’t matter.

Make the call, pick up the phone, write a letter, text them, write it in the sky, but do something to tell them before it’s too late.  Tomorrow is not promised.  Let go of your pride and make it right.  Be the bigger person:  The way things were, doesn’t mean it is how they have to be.

Do you have a Wadie and Garvin?  Tell them how much you love them.  They sacrificed part of their life for you and will find much joy in knowing they helped make you a better person.  Good or bad, if you have someone on your heart or mind, give them a call; we may not even understand the reason behind their name popping in our head, but give them a call, for nobody is promised tomorrow.  Keep the bucket list long and the regret list short.  Here’s to Great People in Our Lives.

Stephanie

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Break out the Resuscitation Paddles, It’s time to Find the “Sexy You” underneath all those Mom Titles You’ve Collected!  Chauffeur, maid, cook and laundry lady . . .

When I first found out I was having a baby, after being married for 6 years, I had no idea just how drastic my life was about to change.  I was use to business meetings and heels, coming home and cooking a fancy dinner with a glass of wine, and discussing my day without interruption.

After fighting rush hour traffic on Friday night, we would decide, last minute, to head out of town for a little getaway.  I look back now and think “we had nothing to get away from.”  Life was EASY!

Now, things are a little different.  We come home from work and jump into chaotic mode.  With 4 kids between 8 and almost 1, someone is talking, crying, singing, pooping, has a boo boo, is hungry or needs a hug.

They ALL want attention immediately, especially if you sneak off to the bathroom for a quick shower or pick up the phone to call someone.  They have radar sensors that pick up – -  ”What is a “Really Bad time for You.”   Hey, The bathroom door closed, it must mean “BANG ON IT!”

Multi Tasking is constant.  No wonder we can’t think of a certain word most of the time.  We’re always in defense mode:  Within 30 seconds, I’ve told the 3 year old to quit riding the dog’s back, the other, “quit licking the walls, one just fell out of a tree and the phone is ringing.

I had no idea what true multi tasking was, until I had kids.  And I was in PR for goodness sakes.  I truly think that if moms were in charge of the war, we could have conquered the enemy with baby screams and doo doo diapers.  The high pitched, ongoing sound of an infant screaming, and the hideous smells of poop alone, could make anyone surrender.

And if you decide to go on vacation, it’s a full-on strategic military move to arrange for babysitters, make a list of what if’s:  medicines, insurance cards, emergency numbers, how to get Millie to the bus stop, and Charlie to soccer.

Pull out the paddles, it’s time to Resuscitate!

Girls, it’s time to dust off those heels, pull out that cute little dress.  Yeah, you know the one.  You may have to wear Spanx this time around but go for it. Put on that bright red lip stick, your favorite perfume and go hang out with your girlfriends, have a night on the town, where everyone is talking and laughing at the same time.  Those “Laugh until you pee in your pants” moments, where only your girls can “fit the bill.”  It’s good for the soul.

Embrace the YOU, not the titles you’ve collected along the way. Break out the paddles and resuscitate the young, fun girl that you know you are.  You have One Life; Go Girls, get Out there and Enjoy it!