Newest Member of the Martin Household

Please join me in welcoming the newest member of the Martin Household.

And yes, we did need one more margarita machine at our house.

Putting First Things First

I am always amazed at how things occur at the right time in life... just when it seems like they are supposed to happen. Or when they are needed most. If you think about something and focus your energy on what you want, what you need, where you want to be, you seem to almost cause some type of cosmic force to pull whatever it is you are looking for towards you. You are transformed into a magnet for what it is you are thinking about most. (And, as "The Secret" teaches, it's important that you focus on what you do want, not what you don't want. Your thoughts become a self-fulfilling prophecy so watch out!)

My magnetism drew a book and a very meaningful church service into my world. The book, "First Things First", is an explanation of what I've been thinking about and going through lately. Usually when I change or grow, I don't realize it. It just happens without my permission. I am definitely different than I was in college but I didn't notice the gradual changes that took place along the way. That's why this change is so important to me: I am fully aware of my changing mindset and views and I have so many new questions for which I need to find answers.

Breaking news flash: life isn't about me. My weekends aren't only "good" if I get to do whatever is most pressing on my personal agenda. It's not whether or not I was able to sleep in or whether I was able to relax and watch a movie. Those things are important and sometimes are exactly what I need to do to achieve my mission in life (and yes, I'm working on my personal mission statement right now!). I am most fulfilled and happy when I do for others, when I spend time on what is most important to me (family, friends, success at work, personal development, leading a balanced life) because I can now confidently make a decision to not focus on what seems urgent but to first spend time doing things that are important. As I've done so many times in the past, when I focus on what appears to be urgent, I do nothing but race around all day and don't have anything meaningful to show for it at the end of the day. One more day has come and gone without any progress on my goals of being a good friend, a good listener, a good wife and mother...

I'm only half way through this book and I can honestly say that I am excited to sit down and read it at every opportunity. I highlight, mark the pages, and take notes on a nearby notepad on ideas of what I want to be included in my personal mission statement. I am thinking about what I would want someone to say about me at my funeral and I will incorporate all of those traits into my personal statement. It's probably going to be a long one, but that's OK.

Dennis and I went to the Buckhead Church this past Sunday and we are both looking forward to going again next week. The series that is being presented is based on how you spend your time and aligns perfectly with my personal crisis right now.

I'm going to continue to ratchet up my magnetism and focus on these questions and changes that I am going through. So if you see books or people or random items flying towards me, don't panic too much. It's that crazy magnetism and my need to learn and grow.

2012

I. LOVE. THIS.



Here is a great alternative for America for 2012.

Deep Thoughts

"If life gives you melons, you are probably dyslexic."

Too Much Cleavage

Shoe shopping is one of the things that I despise most in this world. It's not like I'm asking for that much, either. I want basic black shoes. Heels. Nothing fancy, no frills. But I cannot find a pair of shoes that meet my criteria.

You know that I'm desperate if you see me in DSW. That place makes my heart skip a beat and I have to tell myself over and over that everything will be OK. Take a deep breath and just take it one row at a time and don't look at anything except for the shoes in my row. DO NOT GAZE INTO THE NEXT AISLE.

DSW was calling my name today as I looked down at my sad, black shoes. They've taken me a lot of places, put up with a ton of crap and, all-in-all, they have had a good life. It's just time for me to say goodbye. It was actually time for me to say goodbye several months ago. How old are said shoes? Let's just say that I purchased my wonderful black wedges while I was pregnant. And, yes, Connor is now 14 months old. I TOLD YOU THAT I HATE SHOPPING FOR SHOES!!

I tried on a few different pairs of plain black heels (does anyone still use the term 'pumps' anymore?) but nothing worked. Apparently I have sausage toes or fat feet or something because the shoes that I tried on were all too revealing. I mean, what are girls wearing these days? The worst part about shoe shopping (and there are a lot of items on this list) is finding the perfect shoe ... but after trying it on, realizing that it's too revealing. If it shows a lot of toe cleavage, I can't bring myself to purchase it. Don't get me wrong: I have shown a little toe cleavage in my day but I prefer not to show much. Or any.

And, have Keds been back in style for a while? I saw them for the first time in a L-O-N-G time today.

One of my friends - and co-workers - taught me that you don't wear navy shoes to work even if you are wearing a navy suit. And yes, I learned this just last year. I guess I should have gotten the clue when it was SO HARD to find navy shoes that I liked. Hard to find = not so stylish. Sadly, though, I managed to find them. And wear them. See, I told you that I am a horrendous shoe-shopper. I must be stopped. Please, stop me.

And, another thing (last one, I promise). I think that my feet are smaller after being pregnant. Has anyone else noticed that? More cleavage on my toes and less up top. Pregnancy: the gift that keeps on giving.

This is reason #458,762,125.23 that I need to be rich: I need a personal shopper because I obviously have issues when it comes to shopping for shoes. Or maybe I need to get a special trainer to help me exercise my toes better.

Happy 14 Months (Part Deux)

Connor,
Today went well. Very well. At least that is what Erika, one of your teachers, said.

The morning started off slow because you didn't want to eat your breakfast nor did you want to put on those awful things called "shoes". Once Dennis had them on your feet, you attempted to walk around (looking like you just finished riding a horse) and kept picking up your feet as if you had stepped in glue or gum or something. You were not very happy to have shoes on your feet this morning as we left the house, but you seemed to at least manage to walk in a some-what normal fashion by the time we arrived at your school.

We went in to your school and you seemed to sort-of recognize the place (which you should, because we've gone by there at least 5 times in an attempt to get you acclimated to the new surroundings). Then, I saw one of your classmates, Daniel, and everything seemed like it would be OK. I knew instantly (call it motherly ESP or whatever you want to call it) that the two of you would be friends because you had something very important in common: a mutual dislike of shoes. He had a sock and shoe on his right foot and his left shoe and left sock were thrown randomly across the room.

You didn't cry when we left because you were too busy gazing at yourself in the mirror and following Daniel as he walked around the room.

When we picked you up, Miss Erika said that you had a wonderful day.

"Really? I mean, he did well and took a nap and everything for you?"

She smiled and said, "Well, he didn't really take a nap. At all. We finally got all of the kids to lay down on their mats or in their cribs and had the lights off... but Connor kept running around. He would lay down for a minute and then jump back up and pull Daniel's hair. Then he reached his arm through Sydney's crib and pulled her hair, too. He was the 'King' of the classroom, for sure."

"And...you said he had a 'good' day? I mean, isn't that 'bad' that he did that? I am sorry."

"Oh, don't worry about it. He was very funny with (insert other new kids' name here). He would go up to him, pull out his pacifier, and walk away with it. Then, when (insert the name you chose a second ago here) started to cry, Connor would go back over to him and put his pacifier back in his mouth."

I was trying to think of how any of this could be construed as 'good' behavior. "So, you mean, at least he was 'good' and didn't put the pacifier in his own mouth?" Ah-hah. I finally caught on.

'Good' is in the eye of the beholder. No matter what you did - or didn't do - you were going to get a positive report card for the day.

I'm glad that you did well but what matters most to me is that you really seemed to have fun today. Thank you for putting my mind at ease knowing that you are going to enjoy your new school and that I don't need to worry about you. Well, at least I don't need to worry about you EVERY SINGLE SECOND while you are at school. Every other second should suffice.

I love you.

Mom

Happy 14 Months

Connor,

So much has happened in the two short months since you had your first birthday party. You literally walked into your second year of life with lots of energy and the excitement to explore everything. You took your first independent steps a few weeks before your birthday and by the time you hit the 13 month mark, you were no longer taking steps. You were taking leaps and jumps and sprinting back and forth. And so were your dad and I.

I don't make it to the gym nearly as often as I should but I tell myself that it's OK because I do spend the day chasing you up and down the front hallway as you wobble back and forth, following you as you climb the stairs, shutting doors to the bathrooms, putting up Echo's water bowl, and making sure that nothing too dangerous is within your sweet little (chubby) arm's reach. It's a full-time job that we enjoy. But, we also enjoy the few minutes that you spend in our laps watching "Blues Clues" or "The Wonder Pets" on Nick Jr. Those two of three minutes of calmness are much appreciated.

What we appreciate even more are the kisses that you so frequently give us. You prefer to kiss Echo and she will usually give you one when you ask for one by saying, "mom... mom.... mom..." and puckering your lips, ready for her to plant a sloppy one on your face. And, the "sloppy" part is no joke. You really love Echo and I think she might be starting to like you back. Maybe a little.

Tomorrow is your first day of school and I am so nervous! I'm not sure if the flip-flops that my stomach is doing are from my fear of the unknown or my anticipation of what you will think of all your new friends and your teachers. You LOVE Faye, the babysitter, and your friend Kahn. Your Dad and I signed you up for this school because it has a great reputation and we felt like you'd learn a lot more in a structured environment where you can also play and make more friends. You'll probably do great and make change look so easy. I hope so. I really do. I don't want to see those huge tears come down your cheeks when we leave because that just breaks my heart. I am a wuss, yes, I know. You have me wrapped around your little finger.

Your smile and laugh will charm all of your classmates and your teachers in no time. I hope that you will continue to be as happy as you are now for the rest of your life because your smile brightens the room and makes my day. Everyday.

What makes my night is sitting down with you to read "The Napping House". Several months ago, it would take us 30 minutes to read the book because you would point to every animal on EVERY page and I would tell you that "the dog goes rrrufff" and "the cat goes mee-owww". You would look at me, laugh, and try to repeat the noises that the animals make. Now, though, you prefer to skip to the end. I haven't been able to read the first few pages for quite some time (but don't worry, I still have them memorized). Your favorite part is when the wakeful flea wakes up the cat.. and the dog... and the rest of the household.

I love you, Connor, and I hope everything goes perfectly tomorrow!

Love,

Mom