Archives For November 30, 1999

Boy have Christmas breaks changed over the years.

When I was in college, unlike some people (I’m talking to you, Ryan Woodard), taking time off from school never involved a drunkin escapade to Cabo. Rather, I’d travel with my softball team to play in a tournament someplace sunny.

I always seemed to come down with strep throat…a fate that followed me every year as the seasons changed until I had my tonsils yanked out when I turned 30.

The first year I entered the real world with a full-time corporate job post-college, it dawned on me that grownups don’t get Christmas breaks or Spring breaks or any other rejuvenation periods built into their calendar year. Grownups get Paid Time Off (PTO) based on their years of service. And, for some odd reason, there are people who bank their PTO as a badge of honor – refusing to take a single day off unless they’re on their death bed.

I’ve never understood those people.

And, by not understanding certain things I observe in others, I’ve come to better understand myself.

I’ve learned a lot throughout the past year.

1. I relate to what the author of Hands Free Mama has to say. I see my life as over-scheduled and over-committed and when I try to balance it all and fall short of my own self-imposed expectations, I implode on myself and explode on others. This kind of behavior is avoidable…with proper perspective.

2. I need motivation to stay fit. While I’ve grown in all other aspects of my professional life by working at a new company, I lost a support group of fitness friends when I left my former one. Time for me to kick my own butt back into action. I don’t like being squishy.

3. There will never be a greater source of satisfaction in my life as my kids. Roll your eyes if you want (I don’t blame you), but it’s the truth. They have this crazy way of making life seem as meaningful and memorable as it should be.

4. There will never be a greater source of frustration in my life as my kids. My middle one broke his left arm on my third day at the new job a year ago, and then broke his right arm on my birthday this year. My youngest has had “poop farts” (her own words for diarrhea) all day today as we head into the holidays. Hooray! My oldest came upstairs for a 25-minute lunch break before declaring to the world that he was descending back down to the MAN CAVE. Because he’s a (soon to be 12-year old) MAN.

5. I feel like I’m a fairly laid back woman, with the exception of how I relate to my husband – the aforementioned Ryan Woodard. I don’t care that we have the same “we always manage to have it all work out, don’t we?…” conversation every year, shopping 48 hours prior to Christmas is annoyingly irresponsible. He’ll never convince me otherwise.

6. My parents make me laugh. After succumbing to the realization they were among the last dozen or so Americans who don’t own a computer, they allowed me to pick out a laptop for them. Upon opening it, my dad said, “What’s this kind called? An Ass-us?” The brand is Asus. I did not correct him.

Grandma and Grandpa coming to terms with technology

Grandma and Grandpa coming to terms with technology

7. Whenever I’ve doubted whether the stuff I write even makes a difference to anyone but me, I’ll remember that this piece Do not for one moment believe you are all alone connected me to a life-long friend who I’d previously lost touch with for over a decade. In her words, “Reading someone’s writing can affect your day, or, if you’re lucky to read something truly inspirational at just the right time, sometimes affect your entire life for the better.”

8. I will never regret meeting someone new or hearing different perspectives.

9. I also will never regret setting goals…even perceptibly lofty ones. Because even if I only finish 80 percent of what I set out to accomplish, I’m still 80 percent better than what I once was.

10. Anchor Man 2 is worth the price of admission.

I hope you and yours have a wonderful holiday. And that’s not just lip service. Have a WONDERFUL Christmas break.

Written by Heidi Woodard

School pictures…a right of passage for kids. I remember convincing myself as a child that my entire year would be as good as the printed mugshot I saw staring back at me in the yearbook.

My sixth grade photo involved inadvertent feathered bangs and a failed attempt at a closed-mouth-yet-natural-looking smile to hide my silver grill. Sixth grade was blah. Coincidence? I think not.

However, no matter how bad the picture, I never had a “re-do.” Life’s imperfect and, as such, school photos are imperfect.

My daughter, who’s now 5, had her preschool photo taken earlier this year. After a 40-minute prep session (which KILLED me), I sent her off to school in style and couldn’t wait to see the finished product.

photo 2 (1)

Sporting primped hair, a pressed dress, and a cute smile.

With her photo session scheduled a mere hour after I dropped her off, I was positive I’d be pleased with the precious picture that would arrive in 2-3 weeks. I’d proudly display it for all the world to see.

Then…well…then THIS happened.

Uuummm...was there an all-night rave I didn't know about? Did the photographer not count to 3?

Uuummmm…was there an all-night rave I didn’t know about? Did the photographer not count to 3? What is UP with that hair and faux smile?

I stared at the instructions on the envelope for picture retake day. Would I be THAT mom who is so conceited that she forces her daughter to go through another photo session? I honestly didn’t think her photo gave any indication of her true personality. Part of me actually wondered if the photographer was rushed. I mean, this COULDN’T have been the best option, right?

I decided to swallow my pride and take the following Friday off from work to accompany Jaycee on picture retake day.

After we made our way back to the makeshift studio and waited for her turn to pose, I got to witness firsthand how patient and caring the photographer was with all of the kids. He took multiple shots while making playful noises and waving hand puppets around. He gave no harsh orders, just kind praise.

I started to wonder if it might have been my daughter who caused the first photo fiasco. Before I could give it much thought, it was her turn.

And this, my friends, is what unfolded before my very eyes.

Clearly, I'll be ready when I'm ready.

Clearly, I’ll be ready when I’m ready.

I'd rather make this face than smile.

I’d rather make this face than smile.

WHAT?! I can't hear you over my mom yelling at me to calm down. You'll have to speak up!

WHAT?! I can’t hear you over my mom yelling at me to calm down. You’ll have to speak up!

How about the floor? You want me on the floor or what?

How about the floor? You want me on the floor or what?

I freakin LOVE rolling around on the floor. Are you capturing this magic?

I freakin LOVE rolling around on the floor. Are you capturing this magic?

You wanna piece of me? Ok get ready cause I'm coming at you.

You wanna piece of me? Ok get ready cause I’m coming at you.

Aaaannd pose.

Aaaannd pose.

Mark my words. I will never, ever assume again that the person behind the camera lens was somehow rushed. On the contrary, if I get a picture that even remotely resembles my psychotic mini-me, I owe that photographer double what he normally charges.

Jaycee Lee

What you see is what you get. 100% sassiness guaranteed.

Special thanks to Sully from Sbello Photos for capturing these hilarious moments. If you’re looking for a way to showcase your kid’s true personality, he’s your man!

Written by Heidi Woodard

The frenzy

September 23, 2013

I can’t remember what life was like before kids.

With our two boys in three simultaneous activities each, and our daughter begging us to sign her up for something active too, I literally see my husband for about 45 minutes most weeknights. These encounters are as fleeting as the dollars in our bank account.

Then there are those special nights when we can stare into each other’s eyes across a restaurant table that is 60 percent wiped down, while surrounded by other parents and a collective mob of chatty children.

I made him promise me that we’d start planning a return trip back to Jamaica. We’ve only gone there once in our 14-year marriage. A place unlike any other…where everything is included except chatty children.

I don’t think either of us realized when we married each other that we’d be uncompensated taxi drivers. Me in my rockin silvery-blue minivan equipped with the stereotypical youth team sports sticker on the back window. Him in his 200,000+ mile Nissan Exterra…the same one he teases our 11-year old son into believing he will one day be “lucky” enough to inherit.

We are in the heart of fundraising season, which puts us both on edge. And apparently, based on the comments fellow parents submitted on this particular topic (follow link to view them), we’re not alone with our feelings of frustration.

In summary, this is my life.

Did I see you catch that pass you ask? Sssuurrre I did.

Did I see you catch that pass you ask? Sssuurrre I did.

I’d be lying if I said I don’t love my reality…even the craziest parts of it. I am blessed beyond words.

The boys are meeting friends and learning life skills along with proper playing techniques. Their sister has racked up more miles than the Exterra, frequenting every ball field and basketball court around town.

I’ve come to realize that naps and perspective are the best medicine.

One day, I’ll look back on it all and wonder how we survived. And I’ll miss this chapter.

Blessed is the person who is too busy to worry in the daytime and too sleepy to worry at night. – Unknown

Written by Heidi Woodard