Let's just stop.

There are Moms who do it all. There are Moms who don't do it all. There are Moms who feel like they rule the world. There are Moms who feel like the world runs them. There are Moms who judge each other, but that's another conversation on another day. There are Moms who are self-proclaimed Bad Moms. Self-deprecation is all the rage, y'all. There are Moms who need friends. There are Moms who don't need friends. There are Moms who struggle. With everything. There are Moms who don't want to be Moms. There are Moms who just want to be a Mom. There are Moms.......and on and on and on and on it goes.

How about this? How about we, as women, just BE. Just be yourself. Know thyself. Stop putting a label on it and wearing it like a badge of honor. Just be. And be happy about it. 

I am exhausted by the Super Mom complex. Honestly, being Type A this role is easy for me to slip into, but it comes with lots of issues. It is tiring to hear the Bad Moms proclaim all the things they do wrong, although most of it is very, very funny. My heart hurts for the women who have children and don't know what to do with them. My heart hurts more for the women who yearn for a child and will never have one. These women need to switch lives.  

When do we stop forming sororities, Moms groups, book clubs, and parties in an effort to have a 'support' group for Moms? I don't need to join a group to know who I am!  Most likely, none of us do. When we form these pseudo-support groups - who are we excluding from our not-so-secret club? 

I'll tell you. I was single, and I enjoyed it. I learned who I was because nobody talked to me. Then I was married and I love it. I'm still learning who I am. There is an odd phenomenon when one gets married - suddenly, you are welcomed into this club of women who want to be your friend because you are married but don't necessarily want to talk about being married. Especially don't talk about sex! Then 8 years into marriage, we were both ready to have children and we had one. So far no more, even though I would like a 6 man football team to round things out. Then another odd phenomenon occurs - welcome to the Mommy Club. Ewww. Talking about breastfeeding and body fluids is acceptable, but sex is not? I do not understand. 

Why is the Mommy Club treated like a sorority and Moms must support one another?  And you are excluded if you don't support one another? Mommy Clubs make me sick to my stomach. Why can't I choose to support other people (humans, in general) on my own accord? Why does a MOPS group need to make a video holding up signs encouraging us to support one another? Why is this necessary? Do Moms really need that much validation because "being a Mom is hard"? Yuck. Let's put our lack of self-worth on display and parade it like we are riding a crazy train. Are we changing the world this way?

Honestly, I would much rather be friends with a single woman who has no children than a Mom who needs another Mom to feel better about herself. I feel fine, thank you. I've wanted to be a Mom since I was very young, but never thought it would come true. I have a child who enhances my life. She makes life better each day. So does my husband - my best friend. I'm happy being a mom because I'm happy with myself. Most days. Today. If tomorrow doesn't work, I'll figure it out.

Women. Stop the insanity of prejudice. Stop separating the women of this world into clubs that don't matter. Being a Mom is not hard. Just be a Mom. Just be. Be honest yourself and with one another. Then work on being kind. Especially if you need to put a label on it. Most of all, just share love. The people that share love - open, honest, without condition - are the greatest support group of all.

How does your garlic grow?

Well, my garlic is growing mighty fine. Especially since I don't know what garlic should look like while it grows. 

Yesterday, The Rock Star and The Firstborn Child were sent to play with cousins so Momma could do some home management. Gardening, laundry, napping, catching up on dvr'd shows, dishes, etc. - I felt rested and accomplished by the time they returned.

Anti-depressants and psychotherapy help the emotional weeds of my life. There are plenty and if I'm not careful, I get stuck in the muck and mire of it all. Weeding the garden is an endorphin rush for me (this was not the case as a teenager with Mom giving directives). I was a girl who loved to make mudpies and we had good sandy clay in Central Texas to keep me busy. It feels great to sit in a dirt mix that I created - that anyone can create - one half Miracle Gro Garden Soil, one quarter bagged compost, one quarter bagged top soil. Next year, I will buy that stuff in bulk instead of bag. And I'll have my own compost! 

Bugs in the garden - I'm still learning - this pest is more difficult to detect because they can be chameleons. At least weeds stand up to proclaim their presence. There is something that eats holes in my basil leaves, I haven't found it yet. I spread garden insect dust last week. I use Miracle Gro LiquaFeed once a week. Bugs are my next project. 

But the garden is growing very nicely. Foliage is getting larger, heights are being increased, buds appear. Life is good. 

Name calling

I am Tescille. I was Tescille Cole for 31 years. I have been Tescille Riser for 11 years now. I am Babe, Momma, Cille, Mrs. Riser, Aunt Cille, a cook, a reader, a singer, a musician, an overchiever, a mentor.

Today, I was Farmer Riser. 

Choir directors spend so much time indoors that we create a world that is much like Seattle. Overcast, humid, drizzly, chilly, and seriously lacking in Vitamin D. The past three weeks, I have tried to get outdoors. I'm successful on the weekends. Every weekday, I've been trying to make it home before the sun sets so that I could work in my garden. Home before the sun sets......very rare in my line of work. 

I finally achieved it today. I got home at 5pm and had a couple hours of daylight remaining. I got my work clothes on and climbed in the garden. Ok, I swung a leg over the 24 inch tall fence we built to keep the dog out of the garden. That was money well spent. The Firstborn Child played with the dog while I worked - listening to endless chatter. 

First, I weeded the garden. Ummmm....this is SERIOUS psychotherapy. Better than any adult beverage. No shoes or gloves, just me working in the dirt. What an amazing feeling. Then I cultivated the soil with my Garden Weasel - the dog barks at this tool for some reason. I found some black ants, cultivated some Sevin Dust in that patch, then began planting onions and garlic. Afterwards, I felt like a million dollars. It felt good to get dirty again. 

Finally, compost. Oh, how I love compost. I researched composters online since I have no skills to build one. I found a $25 piece of heavy duty plastic called a GEOBIN - a composting system. A roll of plastic that takes less than 5 minutes to set up. I took the neighbors yard clippings (2 big bags worth) and dumped them in. Oh, how they stunk from sitting in those plastic bags for 5 days. Stinky, sweet, and moldy. Good compost. I've been adding kitchen scraps tonight. I'm going to let nature do the work from here. 

Growing stuff, making compost....Farmer Riser. It feels GOOD.