tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-310096852455462482011-07-28T17:50:56.175-04:00When I first became a mom, I was on cloud nine, literally at the brink of heaven, so blissfully happy. Almost thirteen years later, there are days when I am on the brink of losing my mind. Most days, I reside somewhere in between. Each night I sit and ponder motherhood and always seem to find the good in there, the good that keeps me from going "over the edge".Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.comBlogger211100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-88269104402179959262010-10-05T18:18:00.000-04:002010-10-05T18:18:49.201-04:00

It's funny the things that stick with you and even more interesting the influence one person might have on a child.  We were sitting at dinner the other night and as dinner was wrapping up, my husband and I were giving out instructions for cleaning up for the evening, showers after, etc.  Our oldest, who never seems to know when the proper time to stop questioning "why" or injecting "buts"

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-67645560199737203352010-09-20T17:59:00.001-04:002010-09-20T18:02:40.907-04:00

Oprah Winfrey has been someone I have always admired.  She is a person who has taken her fame and done wonderful things to bring about positive change in the world.  I often miss her show because I am busy with the tedious tasks of every day life, but being this is her last season and I have pretty much grown up watching her show, I have been trying to tune in each day while I tend to my other

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-37993683490276459222010-09-08T18:00:00.001-04:002010-09-20T18:01:32.752-04:00

As summer has flown by and I wonder where it all went so quickly, I wish I had more time.  More time to vacation, more time to spend with the kids, more time to relax, more time to be silly and have fun.  Not long ago, my daughter and I were discussing a website she wanted to join.  I told her I felt she already spent enough time on the computer and joining this new site would just add to

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-45883539447474443262010-09-08T17:42:00.002-04:002010-09-08T19:15:48.056-04:00

     It's been awhile since I last blogged.  Life got busy and apparently one of my blogs hit a nerve with a reader.  My blogs come straight from my life, but let me be clear that I was speaking the truth when I said that true names would never be stated.  I also speak the truth when I tell you, my readers, however many or few of you there may be, that I stand by every word I post 100%.      We

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-15670805904960526942010-02-10T01:13:00.004-05:002010-02-10T01:27:49.366-05:00

When I sit back and think really hard, I can remember the days "way back when" I was a child and a new snowfall brought on squeals of delight from me and my siblings.  It meant no school, sledding, snowball battles, snow angels, and fun.  But now I almost cringe at the mention of the "S" word.  Snow.  That white stuff turns walking down the driveway to the mailbox into an extreme sport for the

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-7794104342452426842010-01-12T05:12:00.003-05:002010-02-10T01:27:29.155-05:00

I am not big on New Year's resolutions.  I feel like if we are vowing to do something for the new year, then it's probably something we should have been doing all along - eating healthy, exercising, etc.  For instance, how many people join a gym with the full intent of getting fit enough by summertime to finally fit into that bikini in the closet, only to quit going a month later when the

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-66939276350996125352009-12-25T00:03:00.002-05:002009-12-25T00:08:43.018-05:00

For the past several weeks I have been frantically trying to clean the house, decorate inside and out, finish my Christmas shopping, wrap gifts, bake cookies.... wait, where was I?  Oh yes, losing my mind!  Let me know if you find it.    In the meantime, I was getting more stressed out and starting to dread the big day - not as a celebration, but as a deadline. It was a deadline in which all

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-69092231265543621242009-12-20T02:41:00.004-05:002009-12-20T02:59:46.344-05:00

I think one of the things that knits families closer together are family traditions.  We have many; some that we do every day (like reading together at night) and some that we carry out through the holidays.  It's the holiday ones I am addressing today.  I often complain about putting our Christmas tree together.  It is so time-consuming and hard on the hands; and don't even get me started on

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-62816628834889751772009-12-11T03:08:00.003-05:002009-12-13T21:43:43.957-05:00

I can't believe it, but all of a sudden my first baby turned 13.  I am officially the mother of a teenager.  A teenager! Where did all the time go?  I look in the mirror at the roots that have grown back in my hair and they are gray!  How can that be?  I don't feel old enough to be going gray or have a teenage daughter.  But I am and I do.  Would I change anything though?  Not in a million years

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-59264603467882943442009-12-09T13:59:00.005-05:002009-12-13T21:43:17.690-05:00

Break a leg.... I don't see how that expression is meant to mean good luck.  It sure isn't me.  Now that the holidays are upon us, it's time to break out the decorations, participate in family traditions, and celebrate the joy of the season.  Well, so far I am batting two out of three.  Well, I broke out the decorations, but also broke my ankle.  Like all our neighbors this weekend, we got out

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-81475610168486526462009-11-10T04:06:00.008-05:002009-11-10T04:27:31.985-05:00

I was in the store the other day starting to do a little Christmas shopping and after waiting in a line of three people deep with carts full of items, I finally got to place my few things on the conveyor belt.  When I moved up toward the clerk at the check-out, she remarked it looked like I was doing some Christmas shopping.  I confirmed her guess and then she said something I did not need to

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-10356581069555519352009-10-28T03:35:00.006-04:002009-10-31T05:15:50.502-04:00

A hobo, Raggedy Ann, Casper, and a two-headed monster; those were some of the costumes I wore as a kid to trick-or-treat in.  The two-headed monster I will never forget and don't recommend, not even to the best of friends and especially not to married couples!  What a disaster that would be:  one of the heads would definitely end up sleeping on the couch by the end of the evening.  My sister and

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-47447414805894765472009-09-25T18:45:00.002-04:002009-09-25T18:53:00.146-04:00

It's that time of year again: the season of giving.  No, not Christmas. I speak of different gifts that others are sharing earlier this season than others it seems.  Unfortunately, this gift is one that no store will take back - with or without a receipt.  There are no refunds.  You can't even re-gift it.  No one wants it.  It will make any recipient recoil in horror and send them running for

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-37185974255481887882009-09-21T00:34:00.000-04:002009-09-21T00:34:40.693-04:00

My son Christopher had an assignment his first day of school.  He got to make a "Me bag".  In the bag, he was to include five things that told something about who he was and what he liked.  My son was very excited about his assignment.  Though it was a Tuesday and the assignment was not due until Friday, he set to work right away, gathering things that he thought would tell his teacher and

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-88366695316807848692009-09-15T14:49:00.000-04:002009-09-15T14:49:26.237-04:00

My oldest daughter takes after her father.  She likes to talk... A LOT.  In the right social setting, this can be a gift; one I often wish I was blessed with.  But in other places, left unchecked, it can be inappropriate.  One of those places is in the classroom at school.  During her fifth grade year, my daughter's motor mouth landed her in the sights of her teacher's radar early on in the

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-71180374981507991232009-09-09T22:23:00.012-04:002009-09-10T01:48:44.100-04:00

So, there I was, standing in the new homeroom of my oldest daughter Jessica, who is entering the seventh grade this year, during her school's open house.  And I found myself thinking, "What am I doing here?"  "How did I get to be the mother of a seventh grader?!"  It seemed so surreal.  I couldn't possibly be old enough to have a daughter going into the seventh grade! I was surrounded by

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-24472120048830110512009-09-04T02:02:00.001-04:002009-09-04T02:07:25.161-04:00

Did you ever find yourself wishing or praying for more patience?  And did you ever notice it doesn't ever get handed to you in a nice little gift bag or on a silver platter?  Patience is one of those things that I think is given to us through opportunities.  You don't have to look for them, they find you; some small, some big, every single day.  As parents, our patience is tested more times

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-19246747539117962662009-08-31T00:17:00.006-04:002009-08-31T00:35:26.286-04:00

The expressions on the faces above often mimic those on the faces of my own children.  No, not when they are in danger, or in fear for their lives, or even faced with taking the dreaded cough medicine.  Rather, it is how they look when they are told they have to do chores. The shock!  The horror!  The doom!  How could I possibly expect them to give up even thirty minutes of their daily lives to

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-58434869529762442252009-08-24T22:48:00.001-04:002009-08-24T22:56:01.431-04:00

Did you ever find yourself wondering who "Nobody" is and why he is always getting into so much trouble?  In our house, if something breaks, "Nobody" broke it; if there was grape juice spilled on the carpet, "Nobody" did it.  And, if there is marker on the wall, you can bet that "Nobody" is the guilty party. I always thought that with three children, the blame would be more evenly spread.  Boy,

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-74307845773989688892009-08-21T19:08:00.000-04:002009-08-21T20:41:03.288-04:00

As a mother, I have come to learn that it is my job to know, at all times, where every belonging of every family member in my household is. From a husband's lost wrist watch to a son's missing shoe or a daughter's crucial missing accessory-of-the-day, the object is to be on my radar, which I like to call "momdar" at all times. It holds so true that somehow, all children and fathers believe that

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31009685245546248.post-17059237772961677972009-08-19T19:45:00.000-04:002009-08-21T19:03:56.259-04:00

For my first post, I thought I would introduce our family. When I first told my children that I was starting a blog about parenting and confirmed that yes, they would be a part of my postings, they were horrified! The gasps! What if their friends read it? What if word got out of secret family meetings?The fact that their friends would be less likely to look up parenting blogs than they would

Giannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209060170566796914noreply@blogger.com1