shalisha.galloway

January 24, 2020

2020 is for Mamas

Ya’ll, I am cutting up in 2020. Last week, I went out three nights (almost in a row). I was headed to go out for the fourth night, but my body just couldn’t do it. I’m old(er) now. But you know what? It felt good. One of those nights was date night, but I spent two of them hanging with my sorority sisters and best friend. It was magical. Ben and I always have date nights; thank God that we have a great family here who will watch the kids at the drop of a dime! But getting out with my girls for laughs, drinks and people watching was truly incomparable. In one year alone, I manage a girls’ outing about 2-3 times, but in 2020, I’m doing more of that. And, of course, I’m keeping date night in rotation.

Since the year has started, I’ve also read three books. Yes, ya’ll- three damn books! I haven’t read for leisure since Quinn was born nearly seven years ago. I am so excited to start doing more of what I want to do and not letting my kids and mom-life get the best of me.

Here are some things I plan to do more of in 2020. Will you join me?

Spend less time on social media. I can only imagine the amount of spare time I would have if I didn’t scroll through social media as much. How do you think I’ve read all them books, chile? And how do you think laundry is getting folded right out the dryer? And, hell, honestly- too much social media isn’t good for anyone’s mental well-being. It’s addicting; it triggers sadness and jealousy; it makes us delusional by thinking more friends and likes makes us better, more popular, more social. Yeah, whatever.

Ask for help. My mom picked Demi and Max up from school yesterday. She took them to Chick-fil-A to eat and play, brought them home and bathed them. I didn’t ask her to do that, but I plan to ask for more of that. I felt so relieved and stress-free. I got to spend more time helping each child individually with an academic task- something that I’ve really been slipping on. Demi can now write her 5s the correct way. It only took 20 minutes of one-on-one practice- all while my mom was bathing Max. Thank, Mom!

Exercise. My Peloton (bike) has been one of the best things to happen to me. I bitched at Ben for about six months for making that purchase after I told him not to, but I thank him every day. I’ve lost 30 pounds by changing my diet and being faithful on the bike. Exercising helps my sanity; helps me feel good about myself; makes me smile when I walk past my full length mirror; makes me feel sexy naked. You don’t have to get a Peloton, Mama, but please get you some type of exercise routine.

Spend time alone. We’ve always heard that one is the loneliest number, but it’s not when it comes to mamas. I’m going to book that spa day, go shopping (hell, window shopping if I have to), try a new restaurant, etc- all by my damn self. Time away from the kids is crucial for your mental health.

Be happy with what I have. Stop comparing my life, my spouse, my kids, my car, my house with everyone else’s. What I have is truly a blessing!

Laugh more. “Laughter is good for the soul,” they say. I’m going to do more crying/pee in my pants laughing.

Remember that “this too shall pass.” When my happiness seems to be floating away, I will remind myself that tough times don’t last forever and that cuddling with my kids won’t either. I will always put those things in perspective.

Get more sleep. I am so guilty of this. I am a night owl. I feel like I get more done when all the world is sleeping. But just as exercise is important, sleep is, too. I’ve set a bedtime reminder on my phone, and I’m sticking to it.

Bedroom business. I’m always about making the bedroom boom a little more spicy. Sorry Mom, MIL and SILs if you’re reading this. How you think we got three kids? Might need to work on #4.

Plan family fun activities. The kids got science kits and lots of hands on toys for Christmas that we have yet to open. I want more family game/craft nights, more sundae making nights, more vacations, more karaoke and dancing- you know? More of creating lifetime memories.

Leave the house-like now. I’ve already said it, but I am saying it again. I am spending more time with my girlfriends in 2020, and I ain’t really gon’ be asking for “permission.” Bye!

Choose good enough. I am such a perfectionist, and I think everything has to be in its place, neat, and not a damn stain on it like rapper Big Tuck says. But whatever. Good enough will have to do just fine. I’m tired of stressing over perfection.

Put my oxygen mask on first. You know flight attendants always say this in their safety speeches. It’s true though. How am I to help anyone else, and I haven’t even taken care of myself first? It’s necessary, not selfish.

Slow down. “The days are long, but the years are short.” Soon enough, Ben and I will be empty nesters. I will spend more time giving 100% of myself to my family instead of giving them half of me due to unnecessary multitasking. I’m vowing to stay present in the moment.

Set realistic goals. I view lots of other moms as supermoms, but I know my limit- the moment right before I go over the edge. I’m not going there. I’ve figured out what’s important, and I’m doing just that. I’m no longer putting more on my to-do list than I can accomplish, and there won’t be any unnecessary pressure on my shoulders.

So again, I ask. Will you join me, Mamas? It’s our year.

January 10, 2020January 10, 2020

Sparking Creativity

We are just coming off of the long holiday break where kids were home bothering parents for the 12th snack and screaming, “I’m boorrreedddd!”

We don’t allow devices on weekdays, but I bent the rules a little and allowed an hour of device time here and there throughout the break, particularly for my oldest two kids- Quinn and Demi. (Poor Max has the iPad as his full time babysitter sometimes. Sue me.) I let them choose how they want to split their device time. Of course they always want to use it all in one sitting. When it was time for them to shut it off, Quinn immediately began to complain that he was bored. I told him that he’d better figure out his life because he’s not getting any electronics. He sat for another 30 minutes acting as though his life was ending due to having a bad case of nothing to do. I didn’t budge. I again told him that he needed to figure something out. Demi had already moved on to making me a five course meal in her play kitchen.

While I was doing the laundry, Quinn came over and helped me fold and put away clothes. After that, he took it upon himself to clean the toy box. He then cleaned his room. After he couldn’t find anything else to clean, he decided that he was going to use his legos, train tracks and books to build a “supercool racetrack where [his] Hot Wheels could do stunts.” HIs inventiveness was kicking in, and I liked it.

How often does your child use their imagination? Is it as much as you did when you were little? Remember playing doctor, teacher, house, and cops and robbers? You’d swear we were legit characters in those roles because we played them so well. As an educator, I can tell you that students lack critical thinking and problem solving skills. That is because they simply struggle to use their imagination. Children need to be afforded the opportunity to develop their own ingenuity. Allow your children to play! No, not video games. I’m talking real play. Allow them to do sidewalk art with chalk, paint, build with blocks, mold with play dough, do science experiments and dress up in costumes. (Tip: Buy costumes for the low, low after Halloween.) Let them kids make a mess, Sis. Let them go outside! Explore nature and bugs. Turn on the sprinkler and let them run through it. Let them fly a kite. Let them mimic an airplane and pretend they can fly.

Be honest. Are you providing your children enough opportunities for this type of play? They should not be spending hours at a computer, watching television or playing video games. Hell, watching other kids on YouTube makes them passive participants enthralled in someone else’s fun instead of creating their own. Sidenote- I think I’ve finally caved in to creating a family YouTube channel. Pray for me.

Being enrolled in sporting activities definitely allows them to develop their skills, but they’re not necessarily developing creativity. Don’t let them bother the hell out of you when they’re bored. Give them a cardboard box and have them create something. If your child complains of boredom, force them to figure out for themselves how to fill their time. I guarantee if you stress this enough, their creativity will soar! Who knows? You could be molding the next creative billionaire.

December 28, 2019

My Ugly But Honest Truth

Sometimes I wish I didn’t have kids. There- I said it, and I probably shouldn’t have, but it’s how I feel sometimes. I know, I know. You’re probably thinking, “But there’s so many women out there who can’t have kids- women who are paying thousands of dollars for IVF. What about the women who lost their child during childbirth? How ungrateful is she to say she wishes she didn’t have kids?” I understand all of this, guys, I do. But the truth of the matter is that having kids is the hardest job anyone could ever have. And guess what? There ain’t a training to take or a book to read to prepare you for this 24/7, on-call job.

I love my kids, I do, but I honestly don’t know what I enjoy doing anymore. I don’t even have the time to do what I love. Because- you know? Kids. I miss who I was before them. I miss being able to take a nap. I miss being able to just sit on the couch and do absolutely nothing. I miss going out with my friends whenever they call at the last minute about an event. I miss going to the grocery store by myself. I miss reading. I miss not cooking and deciding that I’m having cereal for dinner. I miss having a clean house at all times. I miss spontaneous trips and random date nights with my husband. I miss my space.

I know I’ve said it, but I want to be clear. I love my kids; I don’t wish to give them up for adoption or wish that they’d magically disappear, but I’m tired. It’s the same routine day in and day out. It feels like my life doesn’t belong to me anymore. My life is my kids’ life; their life is mine, and quite frankly, I’m drained.

At this point, I feel like I should write a dissertation about how much I love my kids, so you won’t think I resent them. It’s important to know that you can still love your kids and feel this way. If you’re a mom, you’ve been there and you know what it is- even if you’re too afraid to admit it.

November 5, 2019

Wife Nag

All you nagging wives have been nagging me about writing this nagging wife post, so here it is!

Honestly, before I got married I vowed to myself to never be a nagging wife. I’d heard about it, read about, and even witnessed it. Nope. That wasn’t going to be me, but low and behold, I became a wife, and nagging commenced shortly after the walk down the aisle.

I’m going to start by saying that Ben and I aren’t the same person. We don’t do things the same, and sometimes we don’t see eye to eye. When we added kids to the equation, things got even more hectic. And demanding. And complicated. And I began to nag even more. To me, nagging is simply repeating requests and giving gentle reminders. Why do we nag our husbands/significant others? I could think of a few reasons…

We need them to follow through with things.*
We need them to change the battery on the damn smoke detector that has been beeping for two weeks.
We don’t know if they’re listening.
We need them to realize that they can multitask. Watch the game and fold this laundry!
We need them to understand the importance of dumping and rinsing excess food off of their plate before putting it in the sink.
We need them to put their clothes in, not near, the laundry basket.
We need them to follow through with things.*
We need them to open their eyes and realize that the house won’t clean itself.
We need them to take initiative and complete tasks without us having to tell them what needs to be done.
We need them to follow through with things.*
We need them to not have to be reminded that it is trash day.
We need them to realize that after doing 22 things for the day; we ain’t trying to get tapped on the shoulder.
We need them to realize that if they helped a little more, we wouldn’t mind being tapped on the shoulder. Hell, we may even be the ones doing the tapping.
We need them to understand that there is constantly shit to be done.
We need them to realize that we ain’t their mama.
We need them to understand the importance of giving us time to be away- from them and the kids.
We need them to practice being domestic in order to perfect the craft.
We need them to follow through with things.*
We need them to understand the importance of making us feel appreciated.
We need them to know that we don’t like repeating requests, so just do it the first time we ask. Hell, we’d even settle and be happy if it’s done after the third ask. *The basis of our nagging. Just do what you say you’re going to do!

I must admit that there was a time where I was tired of hearing myself “nag,” so I know Ben was, too. I’ve learned to pick my battles with what I nag about. I either take care of things myself (without complaint) or pay someone (with his money) to do them. Ben doesn’t like either of those options, so he has gotten much better at helping around the house and being cognizant of ways he can lend a hand. I’ve read many articles about how destructive nagging can be on a relationship. My best advice is to always communicate your needs and find a balance, ‘cause although him not doing things exactly how you want them and when you want them is annoying af, it’s not worth your marriage/relationship- especially if he’s a good man. #nagwithbalance

October 11, 2019October 11, 2019

I’m a Nag, and I’m Okay With That

Let’s talk about home dynamics. What are they like for you? Does everyone have a role? I’d imagine so. At least, that’s what it’s like in my house. There’s a peacemaker, a jokester, a troublemaker, a rebel and then there’s me- the nag. And guess what- quite frankly, I don’t care that I am seen as such. So yeah- my name is Shalesha, I’m the house nag and idgaf because my nagging ass makes sure shit gets done.

Sure, I’d like to be seen as the fun, playful parent- the one who is like a bestie. But I know that ain’t my job; I know my role. My job is simple; I make things happen. Pretty much everything I do revolves around the people who live in my house. I go to bed with 101 things on my mind and wake up with 15 more to add to the list. I’d like to look fancy and glorious while doing these things, but with so much on the list, I think that’s impossible. Unfortunately, I don’t have any special superpowers, but my nagging always saves the day. I can hound and pester like nobody’s business.

What does my nagging accomplish?

My kids care about others and are empathetic.

They get to visit the treasure chest for completing their reading log/homework.

Their room doesn’t look like it’s been hit by a tornado.

They can find things easily.

They don’t have cavities.

They are learning responsibility.

They’re problem solvers.

They’re successful at given tasks.

They get their daily serving of fruits and veggies.

Their expectations are high.

They’re hydrated.

Their projects are turned in on time.

They’re learning not to give up easily.

Their breath doesn’t stink.

They treat people right.

They’re building integrity.

They have sportsmanship.

They understand the concept of ‘win some, lose some’ and they’re okay with that.

They’re not musty.

Their bathroom doesn’t smell like piss.

Their backpack is packed with everything they need for class.

There’s so much more that I could add to the list. Ultimately, I believe our kids are better because we nag, so don’t stop, Mama. Don’t worry about the heavy sighs or eye rolls you get. Ignore them kids mumbling under their breath. Don’t be hurt or take offense if you hear them say, “I hate you.” They don’t. Do what you have to do to make sure everyone’s day runs like a well oiled machine. In other words- nag away!

Through it all, shit will get done. You’re welcome, Kids. We love you.

P.S. Maybe a wife nag version of this is coming soon, ‘cause whew chile, I know I nag the hell out of Ben.

September 23, 2019September 24, 2019

The Stiffest Competition

Let’s admit it, Mamas. Motherhood is nothing but a competition. Homeschool mamas, stay-at-home mamas, work-from-home mamas, full-time job mamas- whatever type of mama you are, you better believe #issacompetition.

From the moment a mama gives birth and posts her first picture from the hospital, here we go with something to say. ‘Why is she wearing so much makeup?” “She looks awful. Why didn’t she put on makeup?” “Why didn’t she comb her hair?” “Why didn’t she get a custom made outfit for the baby?” Give me a break; the damn lady just had a baby, ya’ll. Honestly, all she wants to do is bask in the joy of being a new mother.

As far as I know, dads aren’t like this- there’s no competition to be the “best dad,” no animosity, no inner struggle- nothing.

So…why are mamas like this? The funny thing about this competition is that most of the time it’s all in our heads; it’s imaginary. We make the shit up. We see what another mama is doing, and we turn it into an attack on our own performance as a mama. It’s not, ya’ll. Just stop it.

What one mama does is not about you! Believe me- mamas who post on social media about the cool things they’re doing at home with their kiddos (science experiments, homemade learning activities, arts and crafts, etc.) are not posting to make you feel like a bad mother. They’re not thinking, “You know? I’m going to post all of these amazing things that I am doing with my kids so other mamas can feel bad about not doing it with their kids.” Chances are- she’s doing these things with her kids because her kids enjoy it; she enjoys it. Or maybe she’s doing it to keep the kids from tearing up the house, writing on the walls, and fighting each other.

Who cares if another mama makes her own baby food? You’re not a bad mama if you don’t. Hell, your baby is eating, right?

Who cares if a mama makes moons and stars out of her kids’ peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?

Who cares if a mama has purchased all of her kids’ Christmas gifts by August? Santa is still coming on Christmas Eve, right?

Who cares if a mama gets her kids to eat vegetables without having to disguise them? Throw some kale and spinach in a fruit smoothie and move on!

Who cares if a mama washes, folds and puts away laundry all in one day? Your kids have clean ‘draws’ even if their balled up in the basket, right?

Who cares if a mama spends her precious time sewing her kids’ Halloween costumes? Save some time, and buy that shit on Amazon! (Gosh, I love Amazon!)

Who cares if a mama makes/buys custom outfits each holiday for her kids? Your child has clothes to wear, right?

Who cares if a mama of multiples has her house spotless each time you come over? Teach them kids to clean, Sis. Err-body needs chores.

So all of that to say that I trust that most women do what they do and operate their household as they please without deliberately trying to make other mamas feel like less of a mother. We’re all doing our very best, and guess what? Our best is good enough.

September 20, 2019

Invite Us, But We’re Probably Not Coming

Most of our weekends are packed and eventful. The ones I love most include spending time together as a family and not having to divide and conquer to make this birthday party, that baby shower, that engagement party, that baptism, etc. Recently, I was doing my nightly social media scroll while laying in bed. I came across pictures of a few of my high school friends hanging out and having a great time for someone’s birthday. I suddenly felt sad. I’m fun too, you know?! Why didn’t anyone tell me? Was I not cool enough to be invited? Had I said no too many times, and they’d just thought I wouldn’t come anyway? Idk, but my joy was shot just looking through the pictures and videos of everyone laughing, dancing, and enjoying the night. I mean, I couldn’t have gone anyway, but I would have at least liked to be invited.

I’ll say it. I want to be included in everything; I want my kids to be included in everything. But deep down I’m literally stressed because we are already overscheduled and overbooked for events and can’t fit anything else on our calendars if we tried. But you’ve heard the saying, “It’s the thought that counts.” That truly is the case here, and I must admit, everytime I see or hear about events that we weren’t invited to, it stings a bit each time. It’s a serious case of FOMO.

When I get this feeling, I have to give myself a reality check and think rationally. I know I’m not being left out intentionally. These people are doing exactly what I’m doing- focusing their time and energy on the ones who are closest to them and who they care the most about. They ain’t thinking about me! So what does it even matter if I’m missing all the other events if, in return, I’m getting to spend time with the ones who I love the most- the ones who share the same sentiments toward me?

Even though I am able to rationalize and realize these facts, being “left out” still is an undesirable feeling. I think it’s human instinct to want to be included. However, you need to understand that your inclusion isn’t guaranteed every time. Continue to focus on spending time with those who love you the most, and err on the side believing that true friendships don’t rely on you being invited to every event in that person’s life. Hell, it doesn’t even depend on having regular phone conversations.

I hope my friends will continue to invite me to their functions. I mean, I think I’m busy that day anyway, but I’d still like the cute invitation.

September 15, 2019September 15, 2019

To Those Without Kids

When I started working as a teacher ten years ago, I didn’t have any kids nor was I married. Talk about time on my hands! I was always the first one in the building and the last one to leave. I was afforded that luxury since all I had to do was worry about myself. The education world is predominantly female, so I worked with a lot of mamas- superwoman ass mamas. Many times I saw these women come in with their hair standing on top of their heads, coffee spilled on their shirt, and their makeup half applied. And there I stood judging them and thinking, “Did you not even look in the mirror?” “Did you even try when you got dressed this morning?” “WTF are you even wearing?” I never realized the war zone they’d just battled at home- getting children dressed, preparing lunches, side-eyeing their ‘attitudy’ teenager, signing last-minute papers for school, etc. Being a mom, let alone a working mom, is something no woman will ever understand until she becomes a mother herself.

She’ll never understand why you have 85 of your kids’ “artwork” pieces displayed in your office.

She’ll never understand the guilt you feel because you’re working while you forced your sick child to go to school.

She’ll never understand that when you rush out of the door at 5:00 on the dot that you’re headed to your second full time job- doing mom shit.

She’ll never understand the peace you get when you are allowed to go to the restroom and have the door remain closed.

She’ll never understand why you are practically peeling your eyelids open after being up with a crying baby all night.

She’ll never understand that you can’t attend happy hour with her as often as you’d like because you have to go home to cook dinner and help with homework.

She’ll never understand why you can’t come to her frequent late night party events. Doesn’t she know that your kids have schedules and bedtimes?

She’ll never understand the struggle of balancing work and home life. WTF is that?

She’ll never understand how you can still function with your energy gas tank on E. #momsohard

She’ll never understand auditioning for The Matrix several times a week when trying to escape a sleeping toddler’s bed.

She’ll never understand the feeling of just cleaning the floor, and all of a sudden Dad or an older sibling gives the youngest kid crackers. Ya’ll- talk about a way to make me go crazy- like straight jacket crazy.

She’ll never understand the pain of stepping on small toys that you’ve already asked 1,056 times to be picked up.

She’ll never understand the frustration of issuing instructions then loudly repeating those same instructions followed by threats.

She’ll never understand the way you fantasize about being alone- for just five damn minutes.

She’ll never understand the drama that you have to listen to every day that’s not even worth your energy. “Mom, you gave her more ice cream than me!” “He took my ball!” “She told me I’m not her brother anymore!” Just ridiculous ass drama that no mama has time for, but of course, we’re forced to have time for it.

The bottom line is that moms are responsible for a lot of shit. Sometimes said shit is the impossible. So instead of talking about how crazy and frazzled we look, help us. Just help us.

August 27, 2019September 7, 2019

Mom Smarter, Not Harder

“That was a piece of cake,” said no mom ever. Momming is tough. Some days I find myself crying in the closet, eating goldfish for dinner, and whispering WTF to myself hourly. I’ve come across some great “mom hacks” that have kept my insanity at bay. I’m hoping they can help you too, Mama.

Keep a blanket/extra jackets in the car.
Set a timer for e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g!
Donate toys regularly- make them disappear if they haven’t been touched in three months.
Use a grocery pick-up service.
Layer two fitted sheets and two waterproof mattress pads on your child’s bed. Pee in the bed? Throw up in the bed? Spill snacks/juice in the bed that you told them not to have in their room in the first place? No worries- pull off the top two layers and move on about your business!
Always have a change of clothes per child (mostly for kids under five).
Meal prep.
Teach your child to do for themselves, and don’t panic when they don’t do it your way. Practice makes perfect, remember?
Plan outfits for the week on Sunday and put them within arm’s reach for your child to grab.
Wake up before your children. Use this time to get things done or to simply leisurely read while drinking your coffee.
Put a selection of healthy snacks in a place your child can reach.
Keep the diaper bag packed and ready at all times.
Keep a portable potty in the car. No restroom at the soccer field? No problem.
Prepare lunches/backpacks/items needed for school the night before.
Stick to a schedule.
Create chore checklists.
Keep a trashcan/container in the car.
Attach cupcake holders to the bottom of popsicle sticks to catch the dreadful drip.
Wash and sanitize toys in the dishwasher.
Embrace the chaos!

August 27, 2019August 29, 2019

Teaching Your Child to Read

If ya’ll don’t hear me say anything else- hear this. You, yes YOU, need to work with your child at home. Don’t leave it all up to the teacher. Hell, believe it or not, she’s lowkey counting on you.

Trust me! I know that teaching a child to read seems like an impossible task, but I’m going to need you to use that same energy that you spend watching The Handmaid’s Tale, Power, and Queen Sugar to “sat down at the kitchen table with your child and help with that lesson.” Does that sound like your grandmother talking?

Teaching your child to read is going to take some time- not all of your time, but some. You know Rome wasn’t built in…I know you can finish the rest. This task is something that will require patience, commitment, and cursing under your breath- a lot.

I taught my now six-year-old son to read when he was three by using this amazing step-by-step resource (No, I am not getting paid to promote this.) All it took was 20 minutes out of my day. I set a timer, went through a lesson, and closed the book. That’s it. By Lesson 41, he was reading. I am not saying that this is THE resource for teaching your child to read, but it worked for me. The real test will be whether my less attentive four-year-old daughter will be successful with this method. And if she isn’t, that’s okay. We’ve all heard the saying, “Every child can learn- just not on the same day or in the same way.”

I know you’re probably wondering, “How can I help at home?” Glad you asked. Here are some of my recommendations. Take them or leave them- your choice.

Have conversations with your children- even if they’re babies. You may think it’s silly to talk to a baby, but reading is a language activity. If anyone wants to learn a language, they need to hear it first. Then, eventually, speak it. Literacy skills are developed by exposing children to a variety of words; this is done mostly through conversation- real conversation. Time to eighty-six that goo-goo, gah-gah shit.
Make reading a regular activity in your home by reading to your child or having your child read to you. Tip: To do this, cut out 30 minutes of scrolling through your social media accounts.
Your child needs to understand how words work- their spoken parts and the sounds that letters/letter blends make. In case you’re feeling fancy, this concept is called phonological and phonemic awareness in the education world. You’ll know your child has a grasp on phonological awareness if he/she can clap out word syllables, recognize rhyming words or come up with words that have the same beginning and ending sound. If your child can blend (put together) and segment (break apart) words, they have phonemic awareness. To work on blending, have your child listen to the individual sounds of a word. For example b-a-g, ch-in, bl-a-st, etc. They should be able to blend the word together and say it. To work on segmenting, have your child break apart the words. Say the word, and have them tell you which sounds they hear. If you say dish, they should be able to say d-i-sh.
Listen to your child read and ask questions about what they’re reading. Comprehension is a key part of reading. A child’s reading level is not only based on their fluency but their understanding of the text as well. Here is a list of questions that you can ask your child after a reading selection. Make sure to ask the appropriate questions based on the genre (fiction or nonfiction) of the text.

Remember to be patient, stay committed and curse a lot. Good luck, Mama!