New Mom Advice and Instructions: Tub-Full Tuesday

People who are willing to pass on knowledge to help others fill my tub. I've often posted about the generosity of the writing community, but there's another wonderful group who live to give... mothers. I've yet to meet a mom who wasn't terrified to leave the hospital with her first baby. I know I personally questioned the sanity of the nurse who signed my exit papers. What did I know about this little person?

My gut sent me running to my mom. She was unbelievable, so patient with all my questions. But she didn't live close by. I learn by watching, and I needed to surround myself with other women figuring it out. I needed new mom advice and camaraderie.

One of my first Mommy-friends suggested a book I adore to this day, Anne Lamott's Operating Instructions: A Journal of my Son's First Year. She didn't hold back any of her fears. I was so tired with a newborn, but devoured this book in one evening. I laughed and appreciated the author's raw honesty about tackling the unknown beast of motherhood. Truly some of the best new mom advice I've ever received. At the core, we have to believe in ourselves and embrace our struggles and thoughts. The biggest defeat a mom can have is trying too hard to be perfect, it's simply unattainable.

When I was querying my fellow moms about whether to have a third kid or not, a handful were truly honest. I so appreciated it, and I spread the love. I tell other moms all the time that they will inevitably love and cherish a new life, but they should consider the effort of different personalities, needs, wants and energies. It's a commitment, and one not to be taken lightly.

A huge thank you to all my mom friends who constantly fill my tub and help me be a better mother and woman.

Today, my mom and I are featured on WoMom.net, a wonderful site for mothers. I love their slogan... real moms. real life. Please take a moment to checkout their site and our interview.

What is the best real advice a mother ever gave you?

Irene's Aftermath Deals More than Destruction: Tub-Full Tuesday

Mom is posting today about her experience with Irene. And, yes, it's a Tub-full Tuesday post. So much can be learned when we least expect it. Enjoy!

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We waited expectantly for Hurricane Irene, bracing for the worse. The media threw New York under the transit, predicting a major weather disaster for the Northeast. North Carolina was told to hunker down and keep doing the same things they do with every storm that threatens the coastline. And we did. We ran to the grocery stores and bought every last loaf of bread and jug of milk. Generators were cranked up; new ones purchased. Everything not bolted down was put away. And we waited.

Irene began her visit late Friday night with rain. By Saturday morning at 4:30am the power went out. At 6:30am, I began videoing the devastation, continuing every hour until 5:00pm when the winds abated.  During those long hours, the wind whipped in from the east, bringing six foot plus water surges from the Atlantic, up the Pamlico Sound to our home on Chocowinity Bay. Debris traveled with the torrent, dragging huge cypress trees, crab pots, sea trash, human debris, pieces of houses and old piers. Then we watched the wind direction change westerly and suck the water like a siphon back out to sea, but most of the debris stayed.

As the storm died down, we walked outside to access the damage and begin the cleanup. So far this story sounds horrible, doesn’t it? In reality we have had a tremendous amount of blessings and laughter. Yes, laughter. And tears.

We worked five 14 hour days. We found a six foot water moccasin. I screamed, my husband screamed… but my Paul Bunyon landed the axe perfectly! Then we laughed like crazy. The grandchildren were told the heroic story and think Papa is a true hero, saving their Nana. Later we found a copperhead in the sunroom. I was outside when I heard my husband scream again. This time he called for assistance. Son-in-law #2 came to the rescue. We are minus that sweet thing as well. Later we laughed as we drifted off to sleep from exhaustion.

The sea took a lot of things, but it gifted us. I had been collecting driftwood for years. All were taken away, but more, much more were left behind under all the debris—pieces even more beautiful than I had before. Neighbors checked on one another. We assisted in other parts of our storm-battered county—delivering food, helping put tarps on houses, helping with debris removal, and offering lots of hugs and encouragement. Today we worked at the Disaster Relief Center. Again, tears and laughter. People are stopping what they are doing and helping others. Relief teams from Florida to Virginia are arriving with help and resources.

Right on the eve of September 11, I feel a resurgence of American pride and ingenuity. I see firsthand what our people can do. Irene did not go sweetly in the night, but behind her she left people who are rolling their sleeves up and digging in. That’s what we should be about, always. Helping others.

*****

A link to a video Mom shot during the Hurricane: http://www1.snapfish.com/snapfish/slideshow/AlbumID=4611319015/PictureID=223587420015/a=2028638_4321222/otsc=SHR/otsi=SPIClink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/

What was the last unexpected lesson you learned?

Back to School: Tub-Full Tuesday

Tub-full Tuesday posts celebrate things that fill our tubs, make us grateful. First and foremost, I am thankful to say goodbye to Irene. She could have been worse, but I know people have suffered damages and loss. Those people will remain in my thoughts and prayers.

Yesterday my kids went back to school. And, no, seeing them go is not what filled my tub this week. (insert snicker here) The summer went by way too quickly, and I miss them already. Yes, there were moments of constant bickering this summer that threatened to send me to the looney bin, but I truly feel blessed to spend summers with them and be home when they get home during the school year.

Seeing them becoming strong, confident young women fills my tub. I don't want to rush time, but I can't wait to know the women they will be. I feel honored to be their mom.

My girls... entering 6th, 4th and 1st grades.

Tub-Full Tuesdays: Letting Go

We love Tub-full Tuesdays. Today, Mom stops by to share a story about what fills her tub. Enjoy!

*****

Tia and I often talk about the beauty and medicinal effects of laughter. Even in stressful, tension filled situations, sometimes laughter is what breaks the threads, allowing them to come unraveled so we can see the injustice and nonsense of the ordeal.

When my girls were teens, we had what I called standoffs. Does anyone know what I’m talking about? Well, here’s one scenario:

Mother to daughter, “I found your report card in the wash.”

Daughter to mother, “So?”

Mother to daughter, “Don’t give me that attitude, young lady!”

No response.

Mother to daughter, “Are you listening to me?”

No response.

Mother to daughter, “You have five seconds to explain yourself. The timer starts now!”

No response. Eyes lock. The stand-off begins.

Am I the only one this has happened to? Well, it happened to me too many times, but on one occasion a huge lesson was learned–one I’ll never forget and hope my daughter hasn’t either. It’s the beauty of laughter at its height.

Same scenario…

No response. Eyes lock. The standoff begins.

Tension shifts to body parts, eyes shift right and left, arms held at waist level soften downward, and the tapping foot slows to a halt.

Uncomfortableness shifts in . . .

Then you get an itch in your nose, you refuse to obey it, knowing if you do you’ll lose the lockdown . . .

At the same time, you notice the twitch in your daughter’s eye. You hope it’s something behind her contact and you hope the pain is unbearable, at least for the moment. You sigh in triumph, thinking fate is on your side.

Within seconds, it’s all you can do not to twitch . . . you suck in air and hold it, hoping it will abate the instinct.

You concentrate, studying the lone tear bubbling at the corner of her eye and watch in glee as she finally squints to release it. Yes, you’re winning. She doesn’t have what it takes!

More tears follow, but it’s getting harder for you to concentrate on them. The twitch is gaining control. You are turning blue, your mouth pinches so tight it draws down to your chin. You can no longer contain it . . .

With tears streaming and one eye batting furiously,

Toes digging deeper into the carpet, snorts resounding more intently,

Both, simultaneously reach, eyes still intent, toward a swelling eye and an extended nostril.

Then it happens, the laughter erupting in a concert of heaves and ho’s. One swiping tears, the other vigorously scratching her nose as they tumble to the floor, laughing more.

Later, after the evening meal, the daughter stops by her mother’s bedroom, leans against the doorframe and announces, “Guess I was wrong about the report card.” She shifts her weight and begins again, “My grades weren’t what I expected. I was disappointed. It wasn’t about deceiving you or Daddy. It was about me being mad at me.”

“Thank you for sharing with me,” the mother adds, proud of the young woman standing in front of her.

She turned to leave and halted, facing her mom once more. “That was the best ever!”

“What?”

“You and me, laughing.”

Today when I look at her, I remember, and for a moment my nose twitches, not from anger but wanting to laugh all over again!

*****

Please share a time when sadness or anger turned to humor, and how it's good for the soul.

Tub-Full Tuesdays: My Little Teachers

Sunday, I was over-stimulated. Monday, seeking balance. I'm so glad it's Tuesday. Now I can reflect on something that fills my tub, my little teachers (aka my children).

I love being a mom with rare exception. What I didn't necessarily expect from having kids was to learn from them. I thought I'd be the teacher. While they will never convince me a sandwich without crusts is superior, they do make me a better person.

Jackie, 11, always has a book in her hands. She loves to read. She gets that from me, but it also inspires me. I feel guilty not getting some reading in when she makes time at the dinner table, while brushing her teeth, riding in the car... She takes the book everywhere hoping she'll sneak in a page. I admire her dedication.

Reagan, 9, finds the humor in the most mundane things. I can be running around completely absorbed in chaos, and she'll chase me down to make me laugh. She will go to any length to get a chuckle. She brings a lightness to our house that is much-needed.

Maddie, 6, is a spit-fire. She has enough energy to fuel a city. Just watching her makes me tired, but I love her spirit. She reminds me life is about doing front rolls down the stairs. So as not to increase our medical bills, I don't roll down the stairs, but occasionally I will skip home from the bus stop with her.

These are just a few of the ways they brighten my life and teach me new things.

Yesterday, I needed my girls to be patient with me. I had a deadline and was struggling with the piece. Self-doubt clouded my vision. It's summertime, they want to have fun and enjoy every second before school starts. With a bit of bartering, we are spending today at Beaver Dam having fun, they agreed to play in the basement until I could finish my work. I must commend them. They did it.

Our dog, however, is probably not as appreciative. Seems she entertained them in my absence.

My tub is full, just in time for more writing and posting. What filled your tub this week?

Tub-Full Tuesdays: Embracing the Red, White and Blue

It's time for another Tub-Full Tuesday. This week feature's Mom and what fills her tub. Enjoy!

*****

I realize July 4^th has come and gone, but our love of country isn’t about one day. It’s about a feeling rushing in whenever we hear the national anthem sung, or see a flag waving against a Carolina blue sky, or wake up to a tragedy similar to September 11, 2001 and feel Americans come together like a giant wave against terrorism. It’s more than apple pie and cracker jacks, baseball and boxing, it’s deeper and deeper still, to the core of who we are and what we are about.

Patriotism was exemplified for me recently. My husband and I took a riverboat cruise down the Rhine and Mosel rivers of Europe to celebrate our forty-first wedding anniversary. On one of our stops, we went to the Luxembourg American Cemetery and Memorial (pictured below) which was established on December 29, 1944. Situated on fifty acres of land that Luxembourg gave to the U.S. after World War II, it is the final resting place for 5,076 of our military, many of whom lost their lives in the “Battle of the Bulge”. Additionally the names of 371 soldiers are inscribed on two large pylons – young American men who gave their lives in the service of their country and lie in unknown graves somewhere in Europe.

When we exited the bus to walk toward the cemetery, I had not spent one moment thinking about anything except the reverence due while visiting. I was walking with a group led by a tour guide and we were doing the usual, not listening and chatting. As we rounded the large iron gates into the complex, I stopped cold.

Before me I saw a meticulous manicured lawn with row after row, as far as the eye could see, of white marble crosses. Thousands and thousands of crosses dotting the landscape like stars on a clear night.

Peeling away from the throng of people, I walked to one of the two large walls situated in front of a simple, but dignified chapel. Now the crosses became real, not just ornaments lining a pristine landscape, but Henry from Pennsylvania, John from West Virginia, Dale from Oklahoma, and Pierre from New York. I read each name, expelling them in a soft swish of air. The walls expanded and collapsed as I felt the pain and anguish of every family whose husband, son, uncle, nephew, father or brother never came home - Sons of America whose bodies lie across a body of water and thousands of miles from their loved ones and homes.

My heart broke over and over again realizing most of their families would never see where their loved ones were buried. Tears welled up and flowed. I wanted to take every soldier home to their families to give them closure. As beautiful as the dignitaries had tried to make it, it didn’t feel right.

I found a bench away from the crowds. I needed to get myself together before others gathered around me with questions. I was sitting in a field of death, of man’s insanity, of injustice, of which there were no answers. Then out of the corner of my eye something caught my attention. I turned and faced Old Glory flying high above the chapel - red, white and blue waving her banner of valor, victory and honor. I’ve never been more proud to be an American!

And I’m proud to be an American,

where at least I know I’m free.

And I won’t forget the men who died,

who gave that right to me.

And I gladly stand up,

next to you and defend her still today.

‘ Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land,

God bless the USA.

What has filled your tub this week?

A Month in Posts: From Anne Frank to Dolly Parton

Our posts this month have been varied, a perfect representation of two female writers. Please visit our Blog Archive on the right side of the home page to check out anything you missed this month.

My favorite this month:
* WSJ Article Suggests Darkness in YA Literature: I Say Parents are the Light: a Wall Street Journal article suggested YA literature was becoming too dark and kids were reading material they shouldn't. My opinion on parental involvement in what their kids are reading/doing is featured in this post.

Our top two posts this month (according to Google Analytics' pages visits):
* The Delicate Balancing Act of Life: a post about learning the art of balance and featuring a clip from our Lifetime talk show appearance.

* Tub-Full Tuesdays: The Anchor of Friendship: Mom's post about the rewards of friendship. We love our Tub-Full Tuesdays!

Starting tomorrow we will be participating in the Ultimate Blog Challenge and back to posting daily (although we posted 25 times in June, not bad!). We look forward to learning more ways to make this blog a must-visit site for our readers.

Tub-Full Tuesdays: Lessons from a Letter

Last time I was home Mom thrust two boxes at me. They were full of old letters and mementos from my childhood. It was time for them to come to my house after years of taking up space in Mom and Dad’s attic.

I found a lot of letters from friends, family, and my boyfriend (later husband). One particular letter was bittersweet. It was from a dear friend in high school. We moved from North Carolina to Kentucky with six weeks left of my junior year of high school. Leaving her was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. She suffered from Anorexia, and she passed away not long after high school. I miss her every day.

She gave me this goodbye card just before I moved. We both cried. I remember the moment so well, but I had forgotten the words. The card read, “Goodbyes are never easy, and this one is especially hard−because I’m saying it to you.”

Her words:

Never have I met anyone quite like you! I’m going to miss you so much! I know this really doesn’t have to be goodbye because I know friends like us will always be together and close to each other in thought and by heart.

You mean so much to me, but I know you will find someone special to share yourself with in Kentucky! You are so beautiful that no one could turn you away. Remember everyone is afraid of changes, and I’ll always be here for you if this change becomes even harder to bear!

Remember, don’t work too hard because life is too short to worry your life away. You will do well no matter what in my eyes!

I love you.

With everything she was going through, she was worried about me. She taught me so much about friendship and pain. She used to tell me I was the only one she could talk to, and I struggled to understand why she couldn’t see her own worth.

But her letter filled my tub and reminded me how short life is. We shouldn’t spend it in a constant state of worry or fearing change. And I did find someone very special in Kentucky, my husband of sixteen years. Without the move, we would have never met.

Also, thanks to this letter and the many I found from my mother, I decided to start a new tradition in my house. Now each of my girls has a small mailbox outside their door. I will put a letter in when they need encouragement or just to know I love them. I hope they will save them, and some day they will find it at just the right time.

When was the last time you found words of encouragement from an unexpected place?

Tub-Full Tuesdays: The Anchor of Friendship

Mom continues our series on what fills our tub and makes us thankful.

*****

My life is filled with an abundance of treasures: my sweetheart, children, grandchildren, extended family, memories, gifts (spiritual and physical), friends, associates, church, my canine friends, and lessons learned.

Recently, a new treasure came into my life that pushed the whole notion of relationship to a new dimension. I never knew you could immediately fall in love with someone. And no, I’m not talking about a new love interest, but falling in love with the spirit within someone, feeling you’ve known that person for an eternity−not understanding why, but completely thrilled to have been blessed with this newfound friend.

My friend, Varonda

Most of us look to our family and friends to love us. So this new experience caused me to ask myself, “How far-reaching is love?” Love is immeasurable, especially with God in control. Still, I don’t usually open myself up to new acquaintances. I’m the one at the back of the room, observing, sizing people up, and deciding who I want to approach. Then all of that changed. I’m in a meeting room area and turn to see this woman who I had just met. Immediately I realize I want to know her and be close to her. As stupid as this may sound, I knew I would love her. No, I’m not off my rocker!

So over the last few months we have become even closer; sharing our lives, which are amazingly similar despite a 25-year gap, and giving one another different perspectives on how to embrace the unpredictable. I thought I had a firm anchor set on how to define who I loved. But I realized I don’t need an anchor to set relationships at all. Maybe I need an open heart and fresh eyes to see past all the preconceived notions I have about people and stand expectant that everyone I meet might be a new best friend to add to my bountiful treasures.

Have you ever met someone you instantly knew would change your life?