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Mollye Taylor Verity Mom Blogger Video

Is that just me?

So here I go... putting myself out there.  Making myself vulnerable.  Going after something I am so absolutely passionate about but at the same time doubting my abilities of accomplishing it.  You know that feeling?  Wanting something so badly that it makes you queasy with excitement but also feel nauseous with the notion you might not succeed.  Oh, is that just me? 

Well I'm in that moment.  I am in a vulnerable state of not sure of what I'm doing, but also so driven with the vision that nothing can stop me, but also paralyzed by not being able to accomplish it.  Again, is that just me?

I've told pretty much anyone when asked what would make me happy career-wise, and passion-wise, it's to write.  I've written a newsletter for family and friends, resumes and cover letters, newsletters professionally, contemplated writing a book, and most recently I've been writing my blog.  When I sit down to write my blog I get excited, feel empowered, feel alive, validated, and important.  Why does writing 500-600 words a week about my life and family provide all these amazing affirmations?  Because I love it.  I love everything about it.  I love to write, and I especially love to write about my family. 

So today a friend texts me about this new blogger opportunity that came open.  I've read and followed this blog in the past.  There have been two so far and the reigns are being passed on for a third time.  What I wouldn't do to have this opportunity.  I know I would be great.  I know I would represent this organization well.  So I did the unthinkable (unthinkable only in my mind) and I recorded a 60 second video and submitted my application for consideration. 

I put myself out there.  And for some odd reason, I'm not completely terrified.  I am not one who likes to be on video putting myself out there.  At least not until now.  Something about this new opportunity speaks to me like I've never felt before.  Ever feel like you are compelled beyond something outside of you and you look at what you're doing and have no idea where this inner strength came from?  It's as if it wasn't you who is accomplishing this tremendous feat, but it really is.  I have these moments from time to time.  I don't plan them nor can I predict them.  All of a sudden my self goes into autopilot and what I can accomplish amazes me.  Is that just me?

Well here I am.  Putting myself out there.  Even on video!  And I will admit, if it doesn't work out, I will be bummed.  But I'm proud of myself nevertheless.  I'm proud of my feat, autopilot or not.  Here's to those rare moments where you go for it and don't look back.  Here's to living outside your comfort zone.  Here's to hoping it's not just me. #veritymom

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Verity Credit Union Mom Blogger

How can it be?

I just walked back from school after seeing off my 1st and 3rd graders for their first day.  This is the year that just seemed so far off.  All my babies are in school.  I keep asking myself, and my husband, and my kids, and my mom, and pretty much anyone who cares to listen, how can it be?  How is it possible that all my kids are in school this year?  Well my youngest doesn't start kindergarten until Monday, but the other three all started today.  And if having all my babies in school isn't hard enough, my oldest is a senior in high school!  Seriously, how can it be?

I remember it so vividly when my oldest started kindergarten.  At that time in my life, I thought I would not have any more kids.  No man was worthy of me and my baby.  So when he started his first day, I was literally a mess.  It was the first and last time I would see my child start his first day of school.  So I thought.  Three kids, 12 years, and a worthy man later, I am about to see my youngest and LAST start kindergarten on Monday.  It's one of those moments in life you just aren't prepared for.  It seemed so far in the distance that I just didn't spend a lot of energy on preparing for it.  I didn't give it much thought.  Until today. Today it hit me.  I am old.  Well maybe I'm not old, but I feel old.  And my kids definitely didn't stay little babies even after I begged them to.  My oldest is a senior in high school and my youngest starts kindergarten.  How can it be?

My husband and I would occasionally talk about this day.  We would be giddy with excitement talking about the day they would all be in school, no more daycare costs, my husband would have his days off during the week to himself, and we would finally have some "free" time.  So here I am sitting on the computer with a pit in my stomach thinking about how much I wasn't ready for this day.  What I want to do is spread all their baby and toddler photos out on the living room floor and go through each one and cry with a box of Kleenex and a blanket around my shoulders and talk about the moment each picture was taken.  It would be a sad, emotionally heavy scene out of a really bad Hallmark movie.  And I would ask myself (you guessed it), how can it be?

But I won't.  I will instead choose to be as present as possible and just enjoy the time they're at right now.  Because I know this day will soon enough be a day I will look back at and wish that time was here again.  There will be a day that my little kindergartner, the little bundle of absolute 5-year old joy, will be off to his first day as a senior in high school.  And I will look at the picture of his first day of kindergarten and remember how sad I was that he was starting kindergarten.  And when that day comes, that day that seems so far in the distance, I will ask myself, how can it be?

August vs. September

As the end of August approaches and September looms in the near future, each year I have this recurring struggle with everything August represents as opposed to everything September represents.  August is full of long, hot summer days.  The kids don't have a care in the world.  They wake up all groggy-eyed, stumble into the living room to watch TV, play on the Ipad, or putter on the computer for a while. No concept or concern as to the time.  If time enters their mind at all, it's because they're hungry.  Their days are spent running around the neighborhood with whatever neighborhood kids they can muster up, most of them shoeless with feet the same color as the dirt that covers them.  Their faces of a similar color from dirty hands rubbing their faces throughout the day.  The sun hangs high in the sky for hours and hours and then drops into a colorful backsplash against the horizon.  Then the August nights begin... s'mores around the fire pit, intense sessions of hide-n-seek, again all with no care as to what time it is, that is, until it's time to head in and get ready for bed.  Then it's all bath time and bedtime routine.  Bath time lasting a little longer in the summer because of the several layers of dirt and melted marshmallows smeared across their faces.  Ah yes, August is a good month.  Takes me back to those long, lazy days of summer as a child when time and dirt were of no concern.

Now enters Labor Day Weekend.  The last weekend of the summer.  The end of all that's lazy, loose scheduled, and carefree.  Something happens after this weekend.  Visions of big, yellow suns, swimming pools, and s'mores, are replaced with dancing pencils and rulers in my head.  It's like a switch is flipped and summer comes to a screeching halt.  Groggy-eyed, relaxed mornings are replaced with strict time schedules, hustled breakfasts, assembly lines of teeth brushing and clothes dressing, packing lunches, organizing backpacks, finding missing shoes - all of this before 9 AM.  My mind immediately leaps to fall and Halloween (yes I know Halloween is in October).  I happen to be unnaturally obsessed with Halloween - witches, bats, spiders, anything spooky, but that's for another blog. 

I think why this whole shift from August to September intrigues me so much is because I feel like they are two distinct personalities, and when September hits, my personality changes along with the turn of the calendar.  I'm all about back-to-school, fall, Halloween, turning leaves, fall clothes, tall boots, scarves, you name it!  It gets me all fluttered and excited.  But for this to all happen within a week so suddenly, it makes me feel a little sorry for August to get dumped so quickly as if it never mattered in the first place.  After that month-long relationship of fun summer activities, how can I so quickly forget about our long lazy days together and everything August represented?  I feel a little cold about my ability to shift gears so enthusiastically.  But nevertheless, I do it every single year.

So for now, until September arrives, I'll make sure to enjoy this last week of long summer days and fun summer nights.  Who knows, I might even actually eat a s'more!

When I Grow Up...

Well here I am. 37 years old, 4 kids, a husband, a dog, and I just lost my job. Ever wake up in the morning and think to yourself that your real life you just opened your eyes to cannot possibly be yours? That's the way I felt, and still do, since getting laid off a month ago. I've been through trying economic times with my previous employer over the past 8 years, watched countless co-workers, some very close and dear to my heart, get laid off. But not me. I just kept on truckin along comfortable in my job with the miss-placed arrogant notion that I would not and could not get laid off. I was too valuable. Too much of a team-player. Too liked by too many and too good at what I did. Apparently not everyone shared this notion alongside me. So here I am, 37 years old, 4 kids, a husband, a dog, and unemployed.

It's been too long since I wrote my blog. I love to write but I never made time for one of the things I love. So now that I have some time on my hands I can sit and ponder this. And while I ponder it, I can write, or type, my ponderings. I find myself in a position I haven't been in for quite some time. I'm asking myself, why am I not doing what I love? I mean, my previous position I did find enjoyable occasionally. I got to work from home, worked with some amazing people, gave birth to two babies while working there, made some everlasting friendships, made really good money, and increased my skill set that I now must depend upon to find myself a new job. But did I love my job? The answer is no. Sure I've told people I love my job throughout the years when asked if I liked my job. Who wants to hear someone go on and on about how much they hate their job? I don't. I wouldn't ask someone if they liked their job if I thought I would be subjected to 20 minutes of them complaining about just how much they don't like their job. But the fact remains, if I was being completely honest when asked, I would have been that person.

I've always been jealous of those who love their job. And not just because they make good money or it was their childhood dream job, but because they truly from the deepest part in their soul, love their job. You can tell the difference when someone truly loves their job. There is passion and conviction in their voice and their eyes light up with excitement when talking about what they do. Sure Confucius said, “Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life,” but is Confucius right? If you love what you do for a living, is it no longer considered work? You just receive a paycheck for doing something that fulfills you internally and makes you happy? It’s that easy? I may have to give this one to Confucius. I believe this to be true from the deepest part in my soul. I truly just want to do what I love. I may still consider it work, but at least I would be happy doing it and I could finally answer people honestly when they ask me if I love what I do.

So here I am, 37 years old, 4 kids, a husband, a dog, and I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. So for now, I'm starting up my blog again. I'm claiming one piece of happiness back into my life.

Summer, Poop, & Warrior Dash

We had our 8th Annual Taylor BBQ last week. The weather and people couldn’t have been more perfect. We always enjoy our annual gathering creating summer memories with friends old and new. We never know how many or who will show up each year, and it really doesn’t matter. We have some amazing friends and that is why our BBQ is always so enjoyable. One of the best parts is having kids of all ages running around the yard, getting dirtier with each time they come around. You usually know what food or drink they had because it is either still dripping off their chin, or is evidenced on their shirt in a soon-to-be stain. We have an incredible friend and photographer who comes each year and takes the most amazing photos of the kids and adults throughout the day. The photos are adorable because not one little face is clean. The environment is one that resembles a large daycare where all the adults help each other out with whosever kid is nearest them. Most of the time we don’t know where our own children are, but we know they are somewhere in the yard near another adult doing just fine.

We’ve had a bout with the flu in the family over the past several weeks. Having four kids it seems to slowly work its way into the house and slowly work its way back out. Lukey had it the longest with three different occasions of throwing up. Twice while Mommy and Daddy were in Vegas (first trip in 8 years away without the kids). Apparently this did not go over well with Lukey. He was very upset with the entire concept of throwing up. Grandma “Iowa” (as my kids call her), tried to explain to him that he was sick and he threw up his last meal. Lukey was very concerned that he saw food in the contents that just came up and Grandma told him he threw up his last meal, in an attempt to explain in simple terms the concept of throwing up. About a month has gone by since then and Lukey still brings up the events of him throwing up several times a week. Luke is very analytical and needs to talk through things so that he can understand and process them. A couple of days ago he brought it up again and relayed to me that he doesn’t like” last meals” because they make him sick and he throws them up. At this moment I realized for a good month now Luke has been completely confused as to what happened and what throwing up was about. After another couple of hours of explaining to Luke that the only reason he threw up his “last meal” was because he was sick. I think now he gets it, but he still needs to talk it through occasionally.

Last weekend Keith and I ran the Warrior Dash with some friends. This run involved 3.55 miles of mud, unstable terrain, and 11 obstacles. We were very excited about this run, knowing we would get completely muddy and that it wasn’t one of our typical runs that were competitive and more serious. It was basically thousands of people wearing ridiculous costumes and gear ready to get down and dirty. The obstacles were not very challenging and progressively got dirtier the closer we got to the finish. The last obstacle involved several fire pits you had to jump over and then finished with a massive mud pit, which in parts were a couple feet deep. The best part of this run was everyone came with a positive attitude and ready to face whatever obstacle came their way. It was therapeutic in the sense that you didn’t know what you were going to face with each obstacle, but you just faced it anyway to get through it. Plus, we ran with our friends and all faced the obstacles together. On so many levels it was a feeling of accomplishment.

I feel like I must report on potty-training developments. This has been a common theme in our home over the last 15 years, hopefully coming to a quick end. Layton is the last of our boys to go through the process. Anyone who knows us, knows we are not the best potty trainers out there. I feel we have many strengths as parents, unfortunately, potty training is not one of them. So tonight, like many nights, I decided to leave Layton with no pull-ups on to force him to pee in the potty. Many times he’ll just wait until we put clothes on him or his pull-up, or on some occasions, he’ll pee or poop on the floor - clearly an attempt to show us we don’t know what we’re doing. However, tonight for some reason he didn’t want to poop on the floor. He was complaining of a stomach ache and I knew he had to go. I kept telling him to go on the potty. Finally he decided he had no choice and he yelled that he had to go poop. So we rushed into the bathroom and he sat down and he instantly pooped (I think it’s safe to say we’ve all been there). So while he’s pooping on the potty, Levi decided to make him an award. Levi enjoys drawing and making awards and signs. Levi’s award said: “Good job you win an award.” At the bottom of this award he drew Layton on the toilet with about ten pieces of poops in the toilet. I don’t find many moments where my boys show affection toward each other, but this is one of those moments. I’m laminating the award to preserve this rare occasion (both pooping on the potty and Levi’s affection).