cute Princess dress

Made By Me Monday

 

 

Using this lovely blog post and tutorial by Shwin and Shwin, as my PIN-spiration, I made this super cute dress for Princess.

I kept it sleeveless even though we're going into winter because I want her to be able to wear it spring and summer also.
I also cheated and made the skirt long and left about 2 inches of material on either side of the bodice to be able to let it out a bit as she grows.
Shout out to my rockin' Mom (aka: Mamacita) for teaching me how to hide that extra bodice fabric.

Isn't she just the CUTEST girl??

 

Sometimes it's ok to be selfish

This past weekend, I did something selfish. And I've decided sometimes it's okay to be selfish. Not just because I had Husband's blessing to do what I did, but because sometimes we're so self-LESS that we cease to care for ourselves properly. How can a momma care for her family when she's unwell? She can't.

Post partum depression is a beast. It's something I've battled before, but each baby bares a new and different challenge. For a while now, I'd been feeling like I was treading water but the last several weeks it's felt more like drowning. Gasping for air and beginning to sink under.

When people talk about drowning, real drowning not movie or television drowning, it's actually an incredibly quiet event. And it can happen right in front of a crowd of people without anyone taking real notice. There's no dramatic splashing or yelling for help, just the quiet gulps that fill a victim's lung with water as they sink below the surface practically paralyzed by fear and lack of oxygen.

For more than a month now, I've been struggling to keep my head above the water, feeling like I'm drowning, quietly gulping water and sinking below the surface. And virtually no one seemed to notice. I've even wished for an accident, to get hurt and need a prolonged hospital stay so that I could just rest and be undisturbed by dogs, chickens, poopy diapers, dirty faces, snot noses, or any of the other myriad of things that face moms of small people each day. "To just rest and be medicated would feel pretty good," I thought. And then there were times that I considered maybe just slipping under the surface quietly with no notice wouldn't necessarily be such a bad thing.

Sure I've got friends and family that would be sad and miss the girl I used to be. The cute, fun, sassy one who drew people in like a magnet. But, let's be honest: I haven't been that girl in a long time and lately I haven't been all that likable of a person. Any perceived closeness has all felt really superficial this year. And for some strange reason, I've kind of felt ok with it. I've been numb to the missing personal relationships and maybe it has mostly been how I've masked the raw and burning feelings, like the nerves exposed from gashing off a few layers of skin.

You're probably wondering where the selfish part is. Well here it is.

I left.

I packed a bag and took off for the weekend leaving my husband and children at home. I barely called or texted, only wanting not to worry the man any further but not actually wanting too many details about what was going on at home.

I told Husband and myself that it was just for the weekend, a turn around trip really. But a small portion of me was scared that I wouldn't want to come back.

I made big plans to park my tush in the sand with my toes in the water and not leave until I'd removed this lost, drifting, drowning feeling off my shoulders. Instead, I spent Friday with an old friend catching up, chatting, and just relaxing. And it felt good.

Saturday, I got up early and ran. Purposely leaving my headphones behind and pushing my speed so I'd have to focus only on my breathing and footsteps, running alone along the shoreline, those nerve endings felt like they were being picked at not healed. But isn't that often the first step, cutting away all the dead and broken skin?

Then I showered and got dressed. I drove out to Point Loma and hiked down to the tide pools.

And I sat watching the tide come in.

For a long time.

I realized I never really "lost" myself. I just sort of lost my way for a while but I was always there. However, the last few months I've been allowing my weaknesses to drive me. I'm impatient (though aren't we all), self doubting, and a perfectionist. And in my desire to not repeat the mistakes of my parents, I've been destroying myself and any confidence I had learned to this point in my life.

While I sat along the cliff edge, I saw this little seagull.

 

I know he's hard to see, but he's there sitting out on that rock.

 



I watched this little seagull for a long time.

Because the tide was coming in, the water on this rock was rising a teensy bit with each wave. He didn't seem to mind if he got sprayed a little with the water or if his toes got wet. He stood his ground and looked out toward the coastline as if planning his next move.

Eventually, the waves got a bit higher and he didn't want his bum to get wet so he began to hop as each wave washed over the rock. He continued this hop and wait for another while. Then the water became too deep. But he wasn't really ready to move on yet so he flew to the next highest rock and sat for another while repeating this process over until he was ready to fly away for good.

Despite the rising tide, he was not persuaded to change his plan or alter his course until he was really ready to do so.

... I know what your thinking: Wow, she really gave this silly bird a lot more thought than necessary. But hey, I was sitting out here on this cliff edge for the purpose of soul searching people. Sometimes ya just make do with what's available. Haha

Anyways, I figured I needed to learn something from this little seagull. It's okay when things get messy as long as we keep our perspective.

Striving for perfection can occasionally be a good thing, but in general it falls into the weakness category. It allows us to set unrealistic expectations for others and especially ourselves.

I've lost sight of the important things.
I feel like I've forgotten the extend of God's love for me, that imperfect as I am, I'm special and important just as I am.
Eternal perspective. What does that mean? "This too shall PASS."
Some where in the last couple of years, between hyperemisis, broken shoulder, new baby, etc, I stopped looking forward and making plans and goals. And while I 100% believe that life is what happens while we're busy making plans, I know that plans and goals are important. We should not just be wondering aimlessly through this life.

I've come to a new place through this weekend away that is ultimately a good thing for my family. I'm still a work in progress, still treading water but I can breathe again. It's been a while since I felt that way.

Relationships are important. Especially my marriage. With my husband's hand in mine I can overcome anything. And harsh as it may seem, right now, his is the only opinion I truly value. For too long I've been focusing on outside perceptions and expectations and I've realized that those things matter not.

I don't have to be a perfect mom, I just have to be better than I was yesterday.

And it's ok if I'm not a very good friend today because tomorrow I'll be a little bit more well than I am today which means I'll be able to be a better person the day after that.

Maybe my weekend of selfishness was a bit less selfish than I thought.

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good enough

When is "good enough" enough?

Daily we're inundated with perfect ideas of how each of us should be:
how to be the perfect housewife, the perfect lover, the perfect mother, the perfect outfit, haircut, DIY do-er, baker, cook, nail technician, up-cycler, seamstress.

There is even a list of perfect things we should have:
shoes, shade of lipstick, car, dog, diaper bag, car seat, stroller, coffee.

Our society if full of "perfectionists," myself included.

And, if you're anything like me, you only see how you're failing miserably those perfect standards. Every day I feel like I'm drowning, barely treading water, in an effort to be perfect. The perfect wife, the perfect mom, perfect friend, perfect hair and skin, even the perfect workout.

Let's get one thing clear: I am momma to a 2-yr-old (which in itself equals tantrum throwing, busy bodied, mess-making, loud and sometimes angry, adorable monster) and a very high needs, high maintenance almost one year old.
So what does this mean? It means for every mess picked up, one twice its size appears in its place without delay. All day long small people are hanging on me and climbing me for sport. They follow me around all day long and I'm never ever alone. All my food is shared and most days, my toddler TD logs more iPhone time than I do.
My house is endlessly and always a disaster, not dirty, just cluttered and toy piled. My kids often have dirty hands and faces. I'm stressed and frazzled and probably won't get a shower until my kids are in bed. Unless, of course, I got a run and shower in before Husband left for work at 6:15 this morning... which is highly unlikely.

Some days are okay, but most this constant struggle for perfection leaves me utterly exhausted emotionally and physically, feeling like I've been treading water, from sun up to sun down, just trying to find a little ray of sunshine. I know something good happens every day but most days, after the kids have gone to bed and Husband asks me about my day, I can't seem to remember them.

Sadly, when you can't ever seem to remember the good times and giggles, it's difficult to like yourself. When you constantly feel as though you're falling short at every measure.

As mothers, I think this is something we all struggle with at some point or another, especially in our early days. But what do we do about it? How do we find the balance between "good enough" and "perfection?"

I hope some of you know, because I still haven't figured it out.

**Disclaimer: Anonymous comments will not be published. I'd love to hear from YOU not "Anonymous" :)