7 things that are actually pretty awesome about being a SAHM

(linking up with the next big name in broadcasting, Jen Fulwiler)

I think anyone who has spent even a cursory linger or two around the blog knows that I have lots to say about the trials et al. of being a mother of the homebound variety. Sure, I mix it up with the occasional story of warm fuzzies, but there are plenty o' tales of woes and oh-no's to keep you entertained. And I stand behind them. In fact, sometimes I stand over them, mopping and disinfecting.

But today I thought I'd bring a different flavor. While I was choosing an outfit this morning (for mySELF, not even for a small person.) I thought to myself, it is pretty sweet that I get to determine the dress code for the day. Heck, I have unilateral sartorial autonomy! I'm basically a style editor and producer at the haute couture daily edition of Uebbings unlimited. And that's a cool job.

So I present to you a curated collection of 7 really cool things about being a stay at home mom.

1. As alluded to above, I have ultimate dress code authority. For now, it extends over our entire brood. Sure, my almost 4-year-old has some opinions and favors wearing his adorable (thrifted) Converse without socks, but since I vetted and/or purchased every item in his wardrobe, even when he digs through his dresser to assemble a getup that would do a drunken farm animal proud, it looks...decent.

For myself, while pregnancy and the dreaded after effects certainly have a massive influence over my options, I get to choose how dressed (or undressed) I want to be for the day. Lately I've been leaning toward the more dressed end of the spectrum, because it feels so nice to have a put together outfit on, even when I'm just running errands and hunched over a laptop tap tap tapping away on a project during nap time. My girlfriend sent me a link to this girl's daily outfit feature on Instagram (which I don't have, but she cross posts them to Pinterest) and we both fell deep and hard. So today's outfit credit goes to Karla Reed.

2. I make all the food decisions. If I don't want my kids to eat something, I don't buy it. Will they occasionally get their sugar-seeking paws on something at a friend's house or celebration? Of course. And does it matter? Well, we have no food allergies in our family, so nope, not really. 90% of our diet is under my direct jurisdiction, for better or for worse, and so for now, while they're young, I'm focusing on training up little palates to eat broad and wide across the produce aisle, and to snack on protein instead of always binging on carbs. Check back with me in 4 years when everybody's wills and opinions are stronger. I'm sure I'll eat my smug words. (Full disclosure, they're snacking out of a plastic bowl of TJ's cat cookies and Goldfish crackers I set on the front porch right now. Like stray animals.)

3. I get to take naps. Okay that one's actually only relevant when I'm 5 minutes post partum because once the hazy first few weeks clear, I return to my usual neurotic self who cannot, for almost any reason, nap when at home alone with the children. Anxiety abounds, sleep evades.

But still, the potential for napping exists. And my boss won't bust me if I try.

4. Leading me to my next favorite: the flexibility to pursue meaningful, soul-expanding work during the varying pockets of flexible time I find throughout the day. Since Joey was a newborn I've been editing and producing content for Heroic Media News, and I also contribute to Catholic News Agency, Catholic Exchange, and complete the occasional project for Our Sunday Visitor and Endow.

Obviously the caveat here is that writing is what I do, and it can be done from anywhere, but I truly believe that due in large part to the internet and emergent technology and a workplace made a little more humane by ever-increasing influence of the feminine genius, women today, at least in our culture, have more opportunities than in all of human history to make something beautiful, oftentimes in a non-traditional work setting, and to be compensated justly for it.

5. I can call "do-over" on a day that's heading straight to hell. 2 pm and everyone is screaming? Time for a quick trip to Target for a coffee for mommy and some dollar spot browsing for the small ones. (Lucky me, they're still gullible enough that we can return their playthings at the conclusion of our Bullseye session without actually purchasing any more crap to bring into the house. Mostly.)

This means I can hit up the petting zoo farm down the road if I feel like it and the weather permits, or I can make the proverbial 3 am phone call and load up the Odyssey for a 50 minute drive down to grandma's house where terrible coffee, a sun-drenched kitchen and a fenced-in trampoline await us. Pure joy.

6. I don't miss anything unless I want to. (Please know that I am not saying this to offend or wound any moms who choose to work outside the home or who are compelled to do so for reasons beyond their control. I respect you, my friends, and I am grateful for the unique contributions you are making to the economy and to the social order. Truly. I'm just speaking out of my experience on this one.)

This one is a fine line I stumble along every day, because on the one hand, children, give me some peace and quiet and go watch Peg+Cat or throw dirt at each other in the back yard. Please. And on the other hand, almost every night at bedtime finds me holding a chubby head against my chest and stroking soft baby hair and wondering where the days are going, and the years too, for that matter.

The truth is I have a front row seat to every milestone, every success, every tantrum, and every sibling altercation. I can choose to intervene and correct, or to sit back and let the natural order of things play out. Or I can check out entirely (guilty and guiltiest) telling myself that my physical presence is enough for them. And sometimes it is. But more often than that, they want more. They want my attention, they want to captivate me and to share the joy of learning something new about the world or about life. And I'm here to give that to them, if I can pry it out of my selfish and sleep-deprived little grinch heart. And that is such a privilege.

7. I can take the ages and stages as they come. My 2 and-a-half year old son is ready to potty train. I, on the other hand, am not. Potty training means to him, I think, wearing Lightening McQueen tighty whities and whizzing on the pine tree in our back yard at his leisure (thanks, idolized big brother). And many, many pairs of soiled pants per day. Since there's no pressure to get him up to code for daycare or preschool or really, anything, I can take my sweet sweet time and wait until he's 3. Or 11.

Right now my oldest is unbelievably snuggly. I love that he comes up to me and professes his love and admiration over and over again throughout the day. I'm so glad I can soak up this age so that when his dominant, fiery extroverted personality kicks back into high gear I have the sweet memories of a snuggle bunny who just wants to beeeeeeeee with me.

So there you have it, long winded and intensely specific to my experience, but true enough.

What are you favorite things about being a mom who stays home?

Ciao y'all

Forgive my radio silence yesterday, but girl's night out called and I answered, and I just couldn't seem to find the time to do my duty. The margaritas, however, were delicious.

I've been noticing some new faces around the comments lately and some increased activity on bloglovin and Facebook, so I thought I'd go ahead and introduce myself to you dear new readers. No doubt you've stumbled over here via the Edel Gathering homepage or perhaps Jen or Grace sent you (so my stats tell me), but at any rate, you are very welcome here. Very welcome indeed, Mrs. Bates. 

I just figured I perhaps owed you a little introduction and I figured what better way to do that than in a feigned third person interview? Plus, 66% of my offspring are wailing themselves to sleep right now and my husband is working for at least another 2 hours tonight and that soothing white noise on the sound machine? It's just the background ambience I need in order to conduct a proper interview with mahself. 

Without further ado, may I present to you, Mama Needs Coffee's FAQs (or something like that).

1. Who is this coffee lover, and how much caffeine does she actually consume? 

Hi, I'm Jenny. I'm married to Dave, who works for the Archdiocese of Denver. We live in a southern suburb of Denver proper, and we've been happily married for 4.5 years, in which time we've accumulated 6 separate addresses. The most recent address before this one was in Rome, Italy, where Dave worked as a journalist for Catholic News Agency, covering the Vatican beat. Yep, that's a real thing. We're pretty much done moving for now, though, much to the relief of grandparents on both sides. Italy was a blast. It was also supremely lonely/frustrating/confusing/charming/historic/socialist. Choose your own adventure from the archives and see for yourself.

(Oh, and I drink one to four shots of espresso per day, depending upon the night before. Yes, even when I'm nursing/pregnant. Makes 'em smart and tough.)

2. Why are your kids so close in age? Are you done?

Honestly, I was almost 27 when we got married, and Dave was 30. We're just making up for lost time.

In all seriousness though, we're practicing Catholics, and with that we believe in managing our fertility naturally, and without the use of birth control. As even a cursory examination of this blog will tell you though, I know a lot about contraception, and even if I were straight up atheist and living la vida loose and loca, I still wouldn't be popping the Pill. It's not only a moral issue, but a medial issue. And an environmental issue.

As for the 3 kids in 4 years? What can I say, we just like 'em. We figure we'll keep going till we get an ugly one. Meanwhile, please be at least a teeny bit classy when you're asking me about my sex life in the Target checkout line. I warn you, my comebacks can be a tad caustic when I let fly the first things that come to mind. 

3. Why blog? And why not monetize it, or at least learn some basic design-y tricks to make it look less like…it does?

I've been blogging since 2006, long back before it was cool. What started out as an outlet suggested to me by a college fling (who, incidentally, was a huge fan of this site called "Et Tu, Jen?") ended up having greater longevity than the relationship. We ended, but the virtual ranting didn't. And so 8 years and one name change later, here I be. Speaking of Jen, she claims the title of her forthcoming book was inspired by the headlining quote on my old blog, which is, admittedly, a good one. 

I haven't monetized it because honestly, it seems like a hassle. And because I have a full-time job already. (More on that later.) I write because it makes me feel alive and because it's how I process the world. Whenever I get emails asking about sponsored posts or guest posts I turn them down, not because I'm not flattered, but because that's not why I'm doing this. I don't have a brand to build, and honestly, I swear kind of regularly. And address controversial topics. And frankly, I like having the freedom to to so. (However, if anyone wants to send a killer diaper bag or amazing footwear my way, I will happily write you a love story and host it here.)

4. You have a real job?

I mean, 3 kids in diapers, you do the math…

No but really, I work full time, from home. Hence all the recent chatter about a mother's helper. I'm the content editor for a news aggregator called Heroic Media News. It's a news site that features content on life issues from all over the world. On a given day we cover everything from euthanasia to abortion, and surrogacy to the death penalty. It's fascinating stuff, and what makes Heroic Media News different than just about any other site is that the content is 100% relevant to major bioethical issues of the moment, but is pulled from a wider variety of sources than almost any other news outlet can claim. Secular, religious, state-run media, academic papers, you name it. If it relates to life and family issues and it's breaking news, you'll find something about it on Heroic. 

Our parent company, Heroic Media, has been in business for the past decade and is focused on offering life-affirming choices and resources to women in crisis pregnancy situations through various media outreaches; billboards, tv commercials, radio spots. You name it, they've done it. And they've done it well.

In addition to curating the content for the website, I also direct the content for a weekly television show by the same name. It's currently slated to begin airing on EWTN in April. The show, (which I will infrequently appear on as a guest anchor) will cover 5 breaking stories from the week. The aim is to "catechize through the news," which sounds odd, but hear me out. Technology and legislation - especially in the reproductive sciences arena - is moving ahead so quickly that there is often little or no thought given to the morality of a new advancement. We're so caught up in the "can we?" that very often nobody stops to ask the "should we?" What we're trying to do with Heroic is help people to reason through and to understand the moral and social ramifications of issues like abortion, embryonic stem cell research, and end of life care. You'd be surprised how few people have ever heard a homily on IVF, or who have ever discussed palliative care versus extraordinary measures with their own families. We want people to have these conversations. They're important. Maybe even the most important. 

So Heroic Media News. Read it. Bookmark it. Visit it every day. And feel very free to send news tips my way any time!

5. Did you study journalism? Or English? 

Yes. And no. I mean I was a journalism major for a semester, I think. But I was also a history major, an English major, a psychology major, an earth sciences major, and I ended up turning my tassel for a degree in the now-defunct school of mental health and human services. (Hail, Steubenville, made up majors.) 

So no, I didn't actually graduate with an official mandate to write, but writing has always been my thing. My first ever real published article appeared in Our Sunday Visitor way back in 2007, and the publishing bug bit me hard. Real hard. To date I've published more than 50 pieces for various publications both in print and around the web, and there's more fun coming this spring.

6. So, a book?

Honestly I'd love to write a book. (And no, no deals currently in the making. Not any solo projects, at least.) I think I'd write about contraception, and about how very wrong our culture has got things in that department. Or maybe about parenting and motherhood. (This would largely be a blooper reel, as I'm sure is self evident.) Or perhaps a memoir of our 9 months in Italy. At any rate, one day…

7. Do the things you write about really happen to you? Surely you're using hyperbole.

With very few exceptions, the shit that gets laid down on this page is real. I don't know if there is something about my manner or person that invites utter weirdness from strangers, or if perhaps I am just more attuned to finding and then recounting the humor in daily encounters, but let me assure you, I really do discuss teenage promiscuity with strange men at the Grease Monkey, and I've been known to encounter all kinds of … kinds at the big red bullseye. Plus, my kids are really weird themselves, and are thus an endless source of material. Just this morning I was trolling the Drudge Report with JP on my lap when he excitedly shouted "there's daddy right there! there he is!" while pointing at my laptop. The image he was so jazzed over was of Vladimir Putin and Barack Obama, so I'll leave that to your imaginations as to who my baby daddy more closely resembles…

And with that cliffhanger, I'll bid you a lovely evening, and repeat my gratitude for your time and interest. Truly, it's an honor to have so many new readers. I hope you'll take off your coat and stay a while.

7 Quick Takes from Under a Rock

...aka life with a newborn. Or at least the way life ought to be with a newborn.

1. This is my first go-round where hideous, creeping PPD hasn't been on the menu for the post partum period, and oh my GOD is it a game changer. (I say that prayerfully. I am so profoundly grateful for not having to shoulder that cross this time around.) I am actually experiencing those moments of joy and wonder where I've got nothing more pressing on my agenda than staring at my sweet baby's fluffy duckling hair and pink cheeks. Okay, that's a lie, I've had a fair share of weepy/enraged outbursts and, okay, certain members of this household have really let their personal hygiene standards sliiiiide (I'm looking at you, 21 month old who pissed on the oriental rug yesterday morning) … but for the most part, it's like a honeymoon. If a honeymoon involved very little sleep, relaxation, or clothing that was attractive in any way, shape, or form. But still, it's good. So good.

She looks the grumpiest, but she's really the best.

2. I've been trolling everyone else's blog and reading some of those end of the year recap posts and thinking about what I want to accomplish/shoot for this year, and to be honest, it's not really something I generally go in for. New Year's resolutions are somewhere between wearing green on St. Patrick's day and eating hot dogs on the 4th of July in my hierarchy of holiday observations, but I think reading some excellent and insightful content from other peoples' mental to-do lists has inspired a touch of aspiration in me. Just a touch. I thought about the possibility of having a word to inspire/aspire to for the new year, and I came up with 'Focus.' Which is really fairly ridiculous, because I now have 3 kids 3 and under, the best sleeper in the lot is 18 days old, and I'm stupid tired all the time. But I think I might be stupid tired for the next several decades, actually. So I want to sharpen my moments, if you will, into something resembling meaningful experiences, be they tedious read-alouds with the non-verbal set or cathartic late-night vacuuming sessions to soothe my tired soul. (Please tell me I'm not alone?) So, Focus. As in, wherever you are, be there. Be all in. So 2014, I'm going all in. And I'm going to start by purchasing 3 different sizes of diapers in bulk.

3. Reading actual books. I spend so much time on the internet and so much time reading 800 word snippets of news! information! breaking! relevant! now! that I'm kind of rusty in the practice of actually consuming entire volumes of thematic information. And I don't think it speaks well for my intellect that the past 10 works of fiction I've dipped into would all be on the same shelf at the library, and that shelf would also include the Twilight series. Dystopian YA fiction, we're on a break. I'll call you when I've had my space. I'm loving reading her list and also hers, and then I happened upon this one last night and basically i have my work cut out for me. And speaking of libraries, I should probably start using one again because Kindle will bankrupt us on my watch if I'm not more careful.

4. Okay also this one.

Because a friend of mine wrote it. And I love this picture of Papa. I'm really hoping to work through EG as a couple this year, but daily reflections are probably more along our stupid tired speed right now.

5. My baby, that adorable squishy fluffy haired baby, hates dairy and alcohol. I'm like, seriously kid, you were friggin conceived in Italy, put your game face on… but she's like, "No thanks mom, I'd prefer if you'd stick to seltzer water and lara bars. Okay, and scrambled eggs are fine with your black espresso."

Little tyrant.

(Hence the above-pictured lime soda water I'm currently enjoying for my midday happy hour on the front stoop. Did I mention it's 60 degrees in Denver today?)

6. In the spirit of being more 'focused' I'm going to try really hard to write at the same time each day, be that for the blog, for Catholic Exchange, for CNA, or for some other publication. What that translates to on a practical level will be a steadier stream of content, I hope, though perhaps slightly less frequent posting overall. But the fact that my nap-boycotting three year old is shrieking at me from his room right now is probably a fair indication of how this will pan out.

7. Speaking of being up to my ears in babies…does anybody out there in blogland use a mother's helper? Where did you find such a magical creature, what do you pay them, how many hours per week do you employ them, and how do you define their roles? Ideally I'm looking for 10 hours of housework/meal prep/kid entertaining so that I can either a. nurse the baby b. hit a deadline or c. leave the house for a mental health break/a work meeting. Can a mother's helper meet these pressing and exciting needs? Should I offer a 401k package? Do I need to clean my house frantically every day before she shows up so I won't engage in self-shaming behavior the entire time she is here? Do tell.

Head over to Jen's, the list-whisperer, for more.

Friday in 7

1.  

Last night, after a long day of work/mothering/nose-wiping, I was sitting at the 'ol laptop reading the most vile and troll-y comments on some article about something hosted somewhere on the internets and my blood pressure was rising steady, steady, filling up my ears like our stove-top espresso maker and then suddenly, epiphany: why am I reading this shit? My sweet sister Hillary, also a journalist, sagely pointed out that reading comments on any given article is equivalent to sitting in a public restroom and reading all the graffiti on the stall. What. What indeed, have I been doing, and why?

Blogging exempted, the written word is not generally intended to be a correspondence as it is a proclamation, and, therefore, is by its very nature not a 2-way discussion. Mind blown. I knew I had a problem as early as a year or so ago when I was indulging in a very infrequent (perhaps too infrequent) pasttime: reading an actual print newspaper. Probably while waiting in an airport somewhere. And as I finished the piece, my eyes automatically traveled down the page to see what ape_69_mofo thought about what I'd just taken in, in case his sage and worthy opinion might sway my own...what the WHAT.

Occupational hazard up in here, y'all. But I solemnly swear, from this day forward, that I will not - I repeat, NOT - be reading comments on any article that is not my own. And hell, maybe I won't even read those comments, either. Part of the joy of writing, and the mystery of it, is that you're creating something to present to the world, and it's not a collaborative effort that deserves to be shaped by random feedback from strangers. Can you imagine if artists worked that way? Or architects? Or dentists? Imperfect analogies, but do you see what I mean? (And obviously this doesn't apply to blogging, which by its very nature is ordered toward discussion. Different animal.)

2.

 Embracing my new found freedom, I decided to flex my domestic muscles last night and, in a profoundly ironic twist on the plunge into paleo living, I made everything bagels. From scratch. And I've eaten 3 in the past 12 hours. I can't even ... guys they are so good, I almost cried when I bit into the first sample. I told Dave that Einstein Bros was going to call and apologize for ever even attempting what I created in my humble, tiny Roman kitchen last night. Truly life-changing. And, now I totally look pregnant. Probably no correlation there. But this recipe + the addition of dried garlic and onion to the sesame seed topping....carb heaven, I tell you.  

3. 

Joey is owning the potty. We're on the big boy commode now, and his nasty IKEA potty chair is tucked away until little brother wants to jump on this diaperless train. It's a legit miracle, because I was fully expecting to be diapering three little booties come Christmas time, but it's been 2 weeks and I'm calling it 'stuck.' He has had a few accidents, mostly in connection with a nasty cold/ear infection combo which renders him slightly hysterical in the middle of the night, but the last 4 nights have been dry and easy. We'll see what regression the coming months of 12+ hour flights and multiple different sleeping arrangements brings, but for now, I'm rolling in diaper money and he is sporting some of the cheekiest baby man bikini briefs that you have ever seen. I can't put a picture up, because I do actually love him and trust me, this would be a scarring thing, not a 'look-how-funny-and-adorable-thing.' Plus, I want to be invited to his wedding someday. Or his ordination.

4. 

My job is changing just a bit and I'm now going to be creating original content for Heroic News at the new Heroic News blog. Regular topics to include: abortion, contraception, IVF, eugenics, euthanasia, embryonic AND adult stem cell research, gay 'marriage,' and human cloning. Bring your sunblock and your butterfly nets, because, you know...but please do stop by, and please spread the word on the www about HeroicNews.org/blog.

5.

What can anyone recommend for debilitating pregnancy exhaustion, besides the obvious and unattainable? I'm toying with the stupidest of stupid ideas and thinking about giving up my morning espresso(s), figuring that maybe I will crash earlier in the evening and that 10 hours, rather than 8.5, will do the trick? All I know is this morning I was in and out of consciousness for a good 45 minutes during JP's naptime, and I opened my eyes to find a nearly naked toddler crouched on my pillow systematically piling books and clean laundry on my chest.

6. 

Reading and loving this book right now. It's our second literary foray into Duggarland, and color us dorky but we love it, and we love reading about how this family is raising their children and striving for holiness. Do we agree with every single decision they make or belief they proclaim? No, of course not...but I think that's the case for almost anyone else's family who you look at. What they are is a whole lot of inspiring, uplifting, and challenging, especially on the whole parental attitude front. I am often a raging shrew in front of my innocent children, and rarely to I stop to reflect on how damaging mommy's habitual sour puss might be to their little hearts. But the Duggars make me stop and think. And to think, they do it without wine...shudder (like I said, toss the bathwater, not the baby.)

7.

My pretty little baby sister is graduation today. The number 6 whose entrance made our family into a legit 'they-are-definitely-doing-this-on-purpose' public gawking spectacle. The sweetest, most inexhaustibly sanguine and most fashion savvy 18 year old on the planet. And to think, she's already got a semester in Europe under her fabulous leather belt. Tia, I'm so proud of you and I can't wait to see what the coming years bring your way. Wish I were there to see the sixth out of seven Senours walk the blue carpet tarp in Clune Arena at the Air Force Academy tonight. Sniff.

Now if you'll kindly click over to the soon-to-be-published Mrs. Jen Fulwiler, Esq., I'll see you to the door.