Tag: Who is JR?

Posted on

Hello, world! Again

“Hello world!” That’s the title of the generic first placeholder post when you create a new blog, so I thought it pretty fitting to use here. The first post on my new, redesigned blog. And, being the editor I am, I couldn’t help but add that dialogue comma in there for accuracy.

So, whaddya think? ScooterMarie has become Jocelyn Rau. Plain and simple, just how I like things. I actually wanted an easy name like that from the start, but when I first set this blog up back in 2011, Ryan said I should go with something more unique. Hence, ScooterMarie was born. And it worked great. But I was never 100% in love with the name, so now that I’ve decided to redo the blog design, I figured now was as good a time as any to change the name. Plus, jocelyrau.com was available, so it worked perfectly.

Hopefully you like the change as much as I do. Those pictures up in the header are all ones we’ve taken over the years, and I love how they change randomly. Bits of my life coming to life on here.

If you had subscribed to my RSS feed on ScooterMarie to get notified every time there was a new post, I think you’ll have to subscribe to the new site address to keep getting them. Just click on this little orange square, and it’ll take you right to Feedburner:

So thanks for sticking with Jocelyn Rau – me and my blog.

 

Posted on

Thankful, always

Thankful for a beautiful 6 year old whose kind heart and amazing mind inspire me and make me prouder every day.

Thankful for the most incredible 4 year old I’ve ever known. Her fairy spirit knows no bounds, and the inner workings of her mind are some of the most indescribably magnificent places humankind has ever experienced.

Thankful for an adorable little almost-18 month old whose smile lights a room, whose laughter brightens the darkest hours, and whose hugs make everything better.

Thankful for the man whom those 3 miracles call Daddy, without whom none of this would be possible.

Thankful for the time to be everything to our children, day and night.

Thankful for the health and strength to be everything to our children.

Thankful for family near and far, here and beyond. No matter how frequent or infrequent the contact, all are forever a part of us.

Thankful for friends old and new. Those friends who are always there, who know your secrets, who will keep you laughing until your sides ache and your cheeks hurt, and who make it seem like no time has passed at all when you meet again.

Thankful for friends, neighbors, and good people who believe in and value the same things. The importance of knowing you are there for our children, too, cannot be put into words.

Thankful for this house that becomes more and more our home every day. Our children came home here, are growing up here, and are learning life here. It is ours and they are safe here.

Thankful that our children are already realizing this is what’s important in life; that not everyone has what we do even when so many have so much more; and to be thankful and grateful, not greedy and selfish.

So very thankful, always.

Happy Thanksgiving!

 

Posted on

These days

These days are filled with the voices of 3 tiny humans. Some days contain more shouting than others, but all are full of love.

These days are filled with tiny hands and feet and faces.

These days are filled with wiping those tiny hands and butts and noses, hopefully not at the same time.

These days are filled with peals of laughter and screams of upset, sometimes simultaneously, and not always from those 3 tiny humans.

These days are filled with the goodnight hugs, kisses, wishes and dreams, breakfast orders, one-more-drink-of-waters, one-more-rub-my-backs, and can-you-start-the-music-over-one-more-times that seem to take 18 times longer than the bedtimes themselves.

These days are filled with cutting food into tiny pieces.

These days are filled with many ridiculous kid-friendly words to mask the adult words that really want to come out of my mouth sometimes.

These days are filled with the almost magician-like ability to know where each and every piece of clothing for all 3 children is so that one can be pulled out at a moment’s notice when pee, poop, food, grass stains, mud, or some other such substance destroys the original article of clothing from any given day.

These days are filled with an amazing display of coordination and logistics – making sure everyone is up in time, fed, dressed, teeth brushed, hair combed, one lunch packed, one backpack readied, socks and shoes and coats on, gone to the bathroom, diaper changed once if not twice, and smaller kid and baby loaded into the stroller in the mornings to be ready to walk the bigger kid to school; repeating said process with the smaller kid and baby 7 hours later to pick the bigger kid up from school; taking the bigger and smaller kids to swim lessons once a week; making sure the baby gets the appropriate amount of formula in his bottles every day, since these are the last weeks of formula for him before switching to whole milk; making sure that same baby also gets a wide enough variety of real food to keep him full after meals without offering him things that immediately end up on the floor; ensuring the bigger and smaller kids get outside as often as possible when the weather is nice so they don’t make me run screaming, I mean so they get some exercise in play; making sure all 3 are pj’d, teeth brushed, peed and diaper changed, bottle given, and in bed on time; and generally ensuring the health, happiness, safety, and security of 3 tiny humans.

These days are filled with tiny footsteps at 2:45 a.m. when the music has stopped and needs to be restarted.

These days are filled with lifting the smaller kid up to the kitchen sink to wash hands after going to the bathroom because, for some reason, she prefers that sink to the one that is 6 inches from the toilet in the bathroom and has a stool right underneath it for small kids to climb up and wash their own hands.

These days are filled with baby cries and snuffles in the middle of the night to find that magical pacifier that sends him instantly back into the land of nod.

These days are filled with a tiny head peeking over the side of a crib at me in the morning, bouncing up and down, eager to start his day with me.

These days are filled with races between the bigger kid and smaller kid from the kitchen to the living room and back, since to them that seems like a mile.

These days are filled with 2-wheeled bikes for the bigger kid, scooters and training wheels for the smaller kid, and strollers for the baby.

These days are filled with grabbing the baby’s hands out of the garbage can, away from the bigger and smaller kids’ art stand, out of the cabinets in the kitchen, off the nightlight in the hallway, away from outlets, away from Daddy’s stuff, and preventing him from falling into the laundry hole (for it literally is a hole, not a chute).

These days are filled with “Mama.” “Mama?” “Mama!”

These days are filled with load after load after load after load of never-ending laundry.

These days are filled with snacks and bottles and sippy cups.

These days are filled with picking up endless numbers of toys endless times every day. Why do we have so many toys? My no-toy rule has somehow been completely ignored for the past 5 years.

These days are filled with kisses for bumps, bruises, and scrapes.

These days are filled with preventing arguments, reminding of manners, teaching responsibility, showing compassion, trying to teach right from wrong, teaching kindness and inclusion, showing how to make good decisions, ingraining the importance of respect, instilling self-confidence and a strong sense of being loved and belonging, teaching that everyone has a story and is important, and daily trying my damnedest to be the Mama they deserve and to not raise little assholes.

These days are filled with tiny eye rubs when the Sandman is near.

These days are filled with burp rag-covered shoulders and baby snuggles.

These days are filled with a complete, purposeful, and pretty much blissful ignorance of basically anything outside my 4 walls and 3 tiny humans, especially politics. Wait, it’s an election year??

These days are filled with pb&j, hot dogs, grilled cheese, macaroni and cheese, and chicken nuggets. You know, my favorite foods.

These days are filled with a ferocity of love that I never dreamed possible before having these 3 tiny humans.

These days are theirs, and I try to be as present as is humanly possible for every single one.

These days are mine, and they are finite, so I cherish every single one.

For those 3 tiny humans? They are mine. And they make me so, so very happy.

 

Posted on

An answer, but still questions

I’ve finally figured out what’s been making me so ill at ease about this whole school thing with Della. It’s not the school or the teachers or the kids or their parents or the logistics or any of that.

It’s 100% me.

For pretty much as long as I can remember, I’ve always felt different than everyone else. And I’ve never known why. Still to this day, I have no idea what causes these feelings.

I don’t know if it was growing up with such a weird name (if anyone can tell me how to pronounce Picl, i’ll give you a hug), always being so much younger than the rest of my classmates (i would have been young for my grade with a may birthday anyway, but then i skipped a grade on top of that), always being a “smart kid” (though my friends were always smart and got good grades, too, so that was definitely not unique to me), or what, but I always felt like there was just something weird about me. I was different somehow.

In my mind, anyway.

No one ever bullied me or told me they didn’t like me or I couldn’t join them or they wanted me to go away, but I always felt like I didn’t quite fit in. Like I was always kind of the odd girl out. Like just a little bit I didn’t belong. Like people were always talking about me or somehow making fun of me.

I was never really the one everyone asked to do stuff with or be in their group or come to their party or go with them wherever, but I certainly wasn’t shunned either. I was much more of a homebody anyway, preferring to stay home with my family on the weekends instead of being at every party thrown around school, so that actually suited me just fine.

I always had good groups of friends growing up, too, so that even confounds me more as to from where these feelings stem. I don’t think I ever didn’t fit in, that’s the strange part. At least no one blatantly told me I didn’t, anyway.

I still kind of get a surge of this same feeling today, especially in new group situations. I’m a pretty shy person until I know you, then you usually can’t get me to shut up, so if I’m in a group setting where I know no one, I tend to be by myself, a little removed, waiting for an invitation in. It’s much less so than when I was a kid, but I can still feel it a little sometimes.

And it is exactly this that I never want our daughters to experience. I’m sure every kid is shy sometimes and may take a little while to warm up to new faces and places, but I never want them feeling left out or weird or different in a bad way. Because they aren’t.

They are the most beautiful, wonderful, amazing people I know, and it makes my heart ache just thinking that they might feel these same emotions of mine someday. So I really hope they never do. I want them to love being in school with new friends and doing new things and learning new lessons and ideas.

Unfortunately, being clueless as to what causes this in me, I’m not sure how to prevent it from churning in them as well. But I’m hell-bent on doing my best.

Posted on

Thirty-five

I turn 35 years old today, and here is how I feel about that:

IMG_3549

(my hair is wet, fresh from a shower, not greasy, i swear)

I am definitely not excited about being halfway through my 30s, and I certainly don’t enjoy saying I’m in my mid-30s. This whole aging thing can suck it. Blech.

However, I do love my life right now, and I’m still carrying that good feeling I had about 2014 this far into the year, so maybe 35 isn’t going to be so bad after all? Or maybe I’m just telling myself that to stave off the depression of getting older?

But either way, Happy Birthday to me!

IMG_3555

For a fun little comparison, here is me at 25. Not the best picture, but the only decent one from my birthday that year. Think I’ve aged well? If not, well then just keep that little gem to yourself…

IMG_5458

 

 

 

Posted on

An anniversary, of sorts

1 year ago today, this happened.

It’s very hard to describe what all has happened during this past year of me being out of full-time work, because I’ve experienced such a huge range of emotions. Something bigger than I think I’ve ever felt before.

I started off scared shitless.

We were losing our big salary; we were losing full, employer-paid benefits; we were losing my life insurance through work; we were pulling Della out of a daycare that both we and she loved, taking her away from her friends, teachers, social interaction, and overall daily structure; we were losing our well-oiled routine.

Was I going to be a good mom staying home with Della? Was I going to be able to give her everything she had at daycare? Was she going to miss everyone there more than she enjoyed being home with just me? How long was my severance going to carry us? How long was I going to be home? How much were we going to have to sacrifice? How in the hell was I going to do this?

And oh yeah, I was almost 7 months pregnant. Delectable timing.

But in a matter of days, I went from more uncertain than I’d ever been in my life to so very, very happy.

I spent every day with Della. We went for walks; we went to the park; we went to the zoo; we played; we did little art projects in the basement; we actually met our neighbors and Della played with all the kids on our block. I became her everything, and it was glorious. She began talking more than she ever had, and it had to have been because she was the focus all day long instead of being one in a class where the teachers had to focus mainly on the kids as a whole. I’ll never forget – about 2 weeks after we’d been home the head of her daycare stopped by to drop off some last art projects and pictures of Della, and she was amazed by how much Della said to her when she came to the door. She said, “Oh my gosh, she never used to talk this much at daycare.” I was so proud.

It was the most lovely time. I was relaxed. I was having fun. I was increasing my stay-at-home motherhood ability level daily. I had not 1 iota of any stress from my job left whatsoever. I was loving our “new” routine, and I was so happy.

Then we hit October 21, 2012, and little Lana Marie entered our lives.

And I was doubly happy. Another little girl! I couldn’t believe it. All of my fears that I could never love another child as much as I loved Della instantly vanished. In their place was an exponentially increasing amount of love that I never fathomed could exist.

Our routine changed once again, but this time I didn’t have to worry about maternity leave and having to go back to work and sending them both off to daycare. I can’t even tell you how beautiful that was. Simply being able to focus on our new baby and being a mom to our 2 daughters was amazing.

I became everything to both Della and Lana now. (don’t worry, ryan is and always has been an enormous help and a wonderful father. i’m just referring to the fact that since i was home full-time, i was the one spending all day every day with these 2 little monkeys)

And then I went from being a blissfully happy new mama for the 2nd time to being not. I was lost.

I became overwhelmed by our days at home, all together, just us. I felt like all I ever did was nurse Lana, feed Della and wipe her butt, and clean the house. I began questioning my ability as a mother. I began questioning my worth as a wife. I began questioning me, and I hated it. I’m not good like that.

So our routine changed again. I got a part-time job, and it was a savior. I worked in a place I knew; the girls came with me but didn’t stay with me; their care was good and it was free; I liked my coworkers and they liked me. I was happy.

And that’s pretty much where we are now. I’ve been doing the part-time job gig at the gym for about 6 months, and it has worked out swimmingly. The girls love playing in the kids care room (for free!!); I enjoy doing something so easy and lighthearted as working a front desk; I love chatting with my coworkers and the gym members all throughout my time there; and although I no longer have a big employer-sponsored 401(k) and year-end bonus, there are actually a lot of perks – free gym memberships for me and the girls, discounts on classes and lessons (so della is now in her 2nd session of swim lessons and i’m thinking about enrolling her in dance next time. can you even imagine the cuteness?!), employer rewards for high-quality service (can you say free massage? thank you very much!), recognition by your peers (most contagious smile, that’s me), a non-existent stress level.

And oh yeah, I’m happy.

So I guess a lot has happened, actually. We’ve added to our family; I’ve gotten my first new job in almost a decade; Ryan got to spend a month at home with us for a mini-summer vacation; we’ve taken some awesome trips. My belief in myself as a mother is now rock-solid, my feeling of self-worth is unshakable, and I’ve even gotten in really good shape by running with these 2 beans in the jogging stroller. Can’t beat that, eh?

Sure the thoughts of when this routine will end have started creeping in, but there’s no definite answer yet. Ryan has thrown out October, since that will be Lana’s 1 year birthday, but I now want nothing more than to prolong my time home with the girls beyond any deadline. We have considered some scenarios that may do that, but like I said, nothing is for sure yet.

I’m just riding this wave and enjoying every day I have on it. I look back to those first days home with Della and how unsure I was and can’t help but laugh. Why was I so scared? This is exactly what I’ve always wanted since the day she was born. Just because I didn’t choose the circumstances surrounding how it came to be doesn’t mean it’s something bad. And now I fully realize that.

So happy 1 year of non-full-time working anniversary to me.

I am very happy.

 

Posted on

They think I’m WAC-y!

Last night I attended the annual staff appreciation event the WAC holds, and it turned out to be a lot of fun. Ryan stayed home to watch the girls and at first I was very skeptical of going alone since I hate doing stuff like that by myself, but I’m glad I ended up going. I talked to a couple of the girls in the kids care room at work the other week to see if anyone else was going alone and a lot of people were, so I figured what the hell.

It was held downtown at the Milwaukee Athletic Club, and more than anything I just wanted to see the venue. It’s a fancy country club-type place to which I’d never been. (i work at the Wisconsin Athletic Club, this was held at the Milwaukee Athletic Club, with which the WAC has reciprocity membership. kinda confusing, i know)

The food was great, there were a ton of people there, and it was fun seeing everyone in something other than black and yoga pants. It actually took me a minute to recognize some of my coworkers since we girls all had our hair done nicely and were wearing dresses and heels. It was also entertaining watching a couple people get rather boisterous as the night wore on, the cash bar kept the drinks flowing, and the dance floor opened, but I was plenty content to observe all that from the sidelines.

Anyhoo… A number of awards were given out during dinner as well. There were some length of service awards, trainer and salesperson of the year, outstanding employee award, and on and on. In addition, each of our 6 clubs gave out peer awards – every employee received a ballot with their invitation and was supposed to vote for a coworker from their home club for each of the handful of categories listed.

In an amazing twist of fate, I won one!! The North Shore WAC, which is the one at which I work, bestowed upon me the “Most Contagious Smile” award. I was so surprised and deeply flattered. I’ve only worked there for about 3 moths, so the fact that enough people voted for me to win something was crazy. A number of members have told me how nice my smile is and appreciate that I always greet them cheerfully, but I had no idea so many of my coworkers felt the same way. And I got $25. Excellent.

And last week my boss gave me a gift certificate for a half hour massage, simply as a thank you for all that I do there. Sweet! Who knew working the front desk at a gym would be such a great gig?

In related news, Wednesday is my birthday. Well I guess that’s actually completely unrelated, but whatever. It’s just what I thought of next.

I’m never one to shun my birthday; I usually love celebrating it to the fullest. But just a few days ago I was remarking on the fact that it was already going to be May, and I realized I had honestly forgotten about my birthday.

I don’t mean like oh shoot, it’s just my little ol’ birthday, it’s nothing special. I mean like I literally had not given it one half of a thought this year. Guess that’s what happens when your life revolves around 2 tiny human beings – 99% of my brain is dedicated to them, the other 1% goes to me, Ryan, the house, what I need to do on a daily basis to stay sane and keep things running. You know, no big deal.

At least spring seems to finally have sprung around here. The lowest high temperature I see through the extended forecast is high 50s, which is much better than the high 30s we saw so recently. About damn time this year. My tulips and lilacs may actually bloom soon. Yay, my beloved May flowers!