From one soapbox to another.

Two posts. In the same month...I know shocking. Anyway, I've had something bothering me as of late and this pesky situation was just brought to a head when I read something a friend of mine wrote. I'm going to get started on my end then bring it all together.

First off, Society-you confuse the hell out of me (with this being said, I must apologize to 90% of my readers for saying the word 'hell.' I know you are my family...but these are my sentiments).

Almost three years ago my little family of two took on a whole new form and we had our first baby. At this time I was working the way I had dreamt about since I was in high school. I wasn't just coaching my favorite sport but I was coaching college athletes. This was the very thing I took classes for at ACU. I loved working my 40+ hour weeks. Leaving the house at 7 every morning and returning at 7pm daily. My weekends were gone but all of this was ok because I was "living my dream."

After having Jax I felt the same way. Seriously, I did. My grandmother watched her in the mornings and then tag teamed with other baby sitters throughout the day. And EVERY TIME (literally every time) we got to do anything as a family--whether it be going to church or running into a friend at the mall--we would run into someone who would ask if I was staying home with my baby. Yes this is a blog about staying home with my kids. When I would say "No" I would get a look of disappointment from the other party. Every time. Then they would ask who was taking care of my kids...to which I would tell them about my herd of sitters and if I can put words in their mouths they would read, "how awful for your children to be passed around from person to person while you 'work.'" This was always written all over their face.

So I would roll my eyes as we walked away. I wasn't going to let someone else dictate my life. I wasn't going to be THAT woman who spent thousands of dollars on my education...then push it to the side once I had offspring. And my first season as a coach and a mother was around the corner and surely I wouldn't go crazy.

Well, I did. Where I had fun constantly being on the ball field, and watching people succeed where I had helped was simply amazing. But I was never home. There were times where I wasn't home four days out of the workweek. Baby sitters were staying till 11pm because my husband had the crazy spring football schedule that Abilene High demanded. And on nights where I was home it was a blur of paying the sitter/cooking dinner for the family/bathing kid/cleaning/putting kid to sleep.

This isn't being a parent. I'd come home to put my child to sleep. Lame.

I was miserable in my job because I couldn't be happy at home. So something had to give. I debated what should be done for a while, then finally gave into the fact that for a few years I could waste my education. I could let my dream job go because none of that matters if my family is being raised by other people. So I "hung up my cleats." Or coaching shoes. I kept up with ACU softball and the conference for the last two years as if I still knew everyone and sure I miss it a little but none of that compares to sharing all the little moments I have with my kids.

So now. Here I am back on my soapbox. Yesterday. At church. I'm trying to drop Max off at the nursery. It's obvious she doesn't want to let go of me....We're a little attached....And not one...not two...but three, THREE(!) different woman said to me with a disappointed face, "You're a stay at home mom. Aren't you?" Mentally, I thought "screw you" while the smile on my face was read differently.

Then, this morning I'm reading a note that my friend had on Facebook. K. If you're reading this, I'm not upset, in fact I don't really care because I don't necessarily think your note applies to me. I just feel the need to stick up for the Bigots and Neo-fems that us stay at home moms are. I didn't plan to be a "birther." I don't think all women should have kids. I don't think all women should stay at home with kids. I'm lucky that I'm not married to a "sexist-racist-bastard" as you so eloquently put. My husband could care less what I do and was just as surprised/shocked as I was when the strip turned pink...or blue...whatever it does. All, I'm saying is that these words that you put out there are ignorant. Yes ignorant.

Anyone can put words out there. Hurtful words. True words. Whatever. But until you are standing there with a family of your own, and facing children of your own who are screaming "No mommy don't go," every time you leave for the weekend...then you don't know any better.

I'm not "wasting" my intelligence. I'm sharing it with my kid/s. I don't want an award. I don't even want recognition for this (another reason why I don't think I fit into your bitter rant). I just didn't want your rant to be out there with out a rebuttal. I had this little blog of my own brewing in my mind lately and your soap box just fed my own.

Society is so screwed where two women can feel the same pressures completely different ways.

Society. What do you want me to do?

Just kidding, I could care less what society wants me to do. I just want you to lay off my back. I'm happy. My kids are happy with me. Jax picks my side of the bed to come to after she's had a bad dream. She calls for me in her sleep when she's too scared to get down from her bed. All of these things I chalk up in the Win column. These are things that would be different if I were working right now. I know it.

Maybe this is lame to some other people. Maybe I deserve "SO. MUCH. MORE." as a woman and I'm selling myself short. Screw that. My kids are young once. I can live my dream later. And they can have their mommy now.

Trying to get my butt back in shape

Yes. It's been forever since I updated this blog...I'd probably keep the lack of story telling going but this subject is just way too long for a Facebook status update. Not that anyone would care to read this. Maybe my granny. Maybe my mom...Either way, I'm in the process of trying to get back into shape. Or just not be so round, if you will. And its so hard.

I started this a couple months ago. I'm not religiously going at it like I should be, but I'm definitely doing more than what I did before. Jax is nearly three and I can honestly say that aside from softball practice after she was born I have not exercised. Yikes. I know.

I take pride in the fact that at one point in my life I ran a mile in 7 minutes and 38 seconds. Then bested that only once. This was something I never really worked at to begin with until I played ball at ACU. I mean why does a third baseman need to be able to sprint a mile? They don't...so don't try to talk me into any reasoning. My point is that at one point in my life I was in shape and smaller. And even then I didn't like my body. Here I am, muuuch bigger, and so much more out of shape I hate myself for ever losing that motivation.

So now, I'm trying to get myself back into. In the clammy Houston heat. The second I step outside, the hair at the nape of my neck beads up with sweat. And this is at 8am. I could wake myself up and the girls and get a move on at 6:30. But I'm not that crazy.

And yes I am doing this business with the company of my little girls (in the double jogger) and Petey strapped on as well. They are the perfect motivators. Jax will say, "Ma, You should go faster." And when I do Maddi claps. It's great...then "Petey" gets tired so I have to slow down...for his sake of course. Right now we are working at a pace of 25 minutes for 2 and a half miles. Yes, I know this is awful, but my excuse is that I'm pushing the girls and pulling Petey as well. My goal is not 7 minutes, but to be able to run five miles in a steady jog like my grandma does...let's see if I can get there. On a lighter note...here are the girls...being cute :)