Submission = doormat (what society tells us)

okay, so… Whoa. Submission. Such an ugly word when it comes to marriage, eh? The world looks at a submissive wife as being a doormat, a slave, having no identity of her own, and they envision husbands treating their wives as property. I’m here to clear up the B(dot)S the world will shove down your throat, and tell you the real. 
I SUBMIT TO MY HUSBAND. 

yep, I do. However, wiping his bottom and tying his shoes, is where I draw the line. Well, until he’s physically incapable to do so himself and I’m the one with greater arm strength and kicking his ass in our wheelchair races. 

I used to be that wife. The one who wanted to be ‘more than a mom’ and needed to be outside of the home 95 hours a week, to feel important. I wanted my own money, my own car, it was all about ME ME ME. Don’t get me wrong, there is absolutely nothing wrong with a working mom. I’m getting to a point, hang with me for a sec. 

Working wives spend nearly 9 hours a day working underneath their bosses authority and following their rules whether they like them or not, for their paycheck, right? Why is that? For the money? Perhaps… But what does that say about your marriage? If you come home and fight your husband on every single thing, belittle him, talk down to him, and cut him off emotionally and most often, intimately. Because you may not agree with his stance? Why not the same approach with your boss? 

No, at work, we wait until our lunch breaks to gossip with our ‘work wives’ about how much we dislike our boss. We could be sitting at our desks at work, and when the boss makes an unexpected visit, we sit up straight to greet them. Perhaps even ask if there’s anything we can do for them. How can you then go home to your husband and tell him to make his own plate, or wash his own clothes. 

There is no “I” in team. Clichè

The boss of a company has a role, he’s in a position of authority. We may not like their rules, but we follow them because of his position. We need to understand that a husband isn’t just a title, it’s a position. The husband is the head of the home. The ‘boss’ of the house. I know by now, depending who’s reading this, there may be some ruffled feathers. 

“No man is my boss, I’m my own person.” 

I’d like to see that attitude fly in the workplace. 

If you have a man under gods authority, your house will forever fall easily into alignment. I still struggle with this from time to time, but I don’t make the rules, I just abide by them. 
Be blessed. 🙂 
Instagram: TanaiAntoinette 

A Mothers loss

Yesterday, I received news that a very dear friend of mine, lost her daughter in a tragic accident. Her daughter and mine have had sleepovers and play dates. We’ve moved out of our home state, and haven’t seen them in a little over 2 1/2 years or so, but the news brought me to my knees in tears. The amount of overwhelming disbelief I felt, the sadness, this “why!!??” … And then imagining it being MY child? I couldn’t catch my breath, thinking of the pain my friend, her mother, must be feeling. 

THERE ARE NO WORDS…

Social media posts have been circulating with condolences. To lose a child, no amount of words can help that… Gut wrenching pain that she feels. I’m sure she hasn’t even gone on social media since. All I want to do is just give my friend a hug. A long, tight, quiet cry as long as you need to, let’s cry together, hug. That’s it. No words. I reflect on the pictures of her and my daughter when they were younger, and the confusion… I can’t help but wonder why? This little girl was so bright, she was absolutely gorgeous, she had a spark about her, I can’t explain it. She was always smiling and so polite. I loved seeing her, I loved having her over and I loved the way she and my daughter enjoyed each other. 

I haven’t broke the news to my kids yet, I just don’t know what to say. I know I can’t say it without breaking into tears myself, and I’m worried about scaring them. I would like them to have the hope that they will live long prosperous lives. I want to guarantee them that no tragedies will happen to them. But I can’t. And that not only terrifies me, but, it grips my throat so tight, I can barely get air in. 

I can’t call her. She probably wouldn’t answer. I won’t send a message on social media, it’s too impersonal. I will travel, and I will give that hug with closed lips, open ears and arms, and we will share tears for however long we need to. 
This has put things in a whole new light for myself. This isn’t about me, but it’s shown me to stop stressing over stupid things. So what they didn’t make their beds. So what, the laundry hasn’t gotten folded. So what, they forgot to put socks on before leaving the house. Because NONE of that even matters… None of it. The love from your child surpasses it all. We need to focus more on loving each other as much as possible. Life is so fragile, and unpredictable. So, before you lose it and get frustrated, today, I ask you, to instead give them a hug. Hug your babies. If you know someone grieving the loss of a child, give comfort in anyway that person may need. 
  
In loving memory… 

(Out of respect for her family, I have decided not to share the child’s name. If you believe in prayer, keep this family in yours.)

Feels

Oh, dearest. It’s been a while… I’m not really sure why. Perhaps my lack of interest in blogging in recent weeks, or maybe it’s been my hectic schedule. Perhaps both. In any event, here I am, ready to poor my heart out. I’m all in my feels, so, apologies in advance. 

  Life is hard. Let me rephrase that, life’s a bitch! Remember when you couldn’t wait to grow up? Make your own rules, follow the beat of your own drum? Perhaps you had dreams of being a teacher, or an astronaut. How quickly things change once we’re living it. Maybe it has something to do with me getting so much closer to 30, but, I have a much more difficult time getting out of the “funk.” When something ticks me off, I internalize it, and just have a dark cloud looming over me. I’m not depressed, but, sometimes, I can’t pretend I’m a jolly fairy princess with an endless supply of happy in a jar swirled with unicorn kisses. Being a grown up, is hard. Being a woman, is hard, being a grown up woman and having the wonderful responsibility of being responsible for little humans, is hard! 

Yeah, I know. Some of you moms do have an endless supply of happy in a jar, mixed with the jam you homemade. Placed on a shelf next to freshly baked homemade, organic, gluten free bread. Because… PERFECT MOMS. No shade my Susie’s.  Listen, I make homemade things. But, a mother who shows happy 100% of the time, with zero loads of laundry to be folded, homemade everything including medicine, kids are always dressed with matching socks, never late for doctors appointments and never desire a moment alone, because they’re wearing their babies EVERYWHERE. It does something to me. Perhaps, I’m doing something wrong. Surely something must be wrong with me if I’m not happy every.single.day. Right?

W R O N G. 

I’ve got so much respect for all mama’s, especially the ones who second guess everything they’re doing. There are some days when I’m up before the sun, cleaning house, folding clothes, preparing breakfast and have dinner done before 1 p.m. On those days, I feel like, wow, I’m a fantastic mother and wife. I can do this. But why? Why does it take for me to be on top of everything, to feel like I’m doing it right and worthy of praise? Moms who manage to keep their kids alive, fed and happy all week are all deserving of praise. Doesn’t matter how we get there. I believe I’ve blogged about something similar, but I felt it needed to be readdressed. And it’s nice to remind myself by putting it all out there in the universe, stop being so hard on yourselves. Somewhere, a mom will read this and hopefully feel better. 

Log out of Pinterest, take the day off from Instagram, and just do you! 

Peace and love always. 

ιnѕтagraм: тanaιanтoιneттe 

Let them be little

  

My 3 year old is at the age of “independence.” She debates what she wants to and doesn’t want to wear. Some days I have to catch myself when I get ancy, in a rush and easily flustered when outfits don’t go as planned. (One morning she screamed bloody murder, because of her disgust for her pants.) I used to care so much about how my kids were presented in public, in fear of being judged. 

Being a young mom of many littles, I always felt we needed to look put together in order to be viewed as having it together. It never occurred to me, at that time, I was putting an unrealistic amount of power in strangers hands. Those whom may or may not even care how the kids look. 

My daughter is the happiest in anything pink. When I say anything, I mean Anything. You could literally wrap her up in pink tulle from head to toe, and she would never complain. It took me a while to realize, just how easy it is, and less stressful it is, to just “roll with the punches.” 

  
There have been days when she wears what I pick out, which is fine. But there are also many days when we leave the house with her in a tutu, and barefoot, and that’s fine too. 🙂 I think we need to get back to what’s important. We have to shift our focus from what’s going on around us, and focus on the littles inside our homes, and their freedom of expression. We have to get back to allowing children’s imaginations to run wild and allowing them to get dirty, because it’s OKAY for kids to get dirty. {Just make sure you clean them after 😉 }

  
Amazing things happen when we unplug ourselves. During lent, I gave up social media. The kids, unwillingly at first, had a significant decrease in tv time and tablet use. Even now, the kids haven’t had their tablets in over a week. We’ve been making it a priority, to face each other and get out and get dirty, and it has been amazing. Let them be little. Because the truth is, one day they will grow up and you’re never going to get a do over. 

Self love {because it matters}

Having self love, is so important. Especially when you’re the mom to little girls. Because, funny thing, our kids usually look like us. So if we inflict self hate, or disappointment in our own looks, what does that say to our girls? We dislike them also? How can we teach our daughters to love themselves, if we don’t love ourselves?

5 reasons why you should get lost in today.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the “to do” lists, chores, and everyday errands. I mean, there are days when I feel like I’ve got my shit together because I’ve done 4 loads of laundry, washed the dishes, cooked meals and paid the bills. And by bedtime, when the kids are aching for a story or some mommy time, I’m too exhausted.

Normalize {NOT} always being okay.

I guess we all have different views on what it is, to be an open book. I’m sure people have their reasons for being 100% private. I don’t think the issue is sharing some of your business/ feelings. The issue is, if you have the wrong people on the receiving end.

That time I gave up

Okay so here’s the thing.

Stop labeling parenting

Ahhh, that positive pregnancy test. For most, it’s THE moment you’ve been waiting for.