The Balancing Act

This weekend I spent a refreshing 72 hours at the family beach house with my mom. Leaving the boys at home, I was able to relax, drink wine, enjoy my mom's company and add a few new items to my wardrobe.

I arrived home rejuvenated, caught up on sleep and with a super cute new pedicure. All was well until reality came crashing down around me. Laundry needed to be taken care of, Sophie was in desperate need of companionship, Ryan wanted my attention, Mr. Berg was... well... I'm not sure but he needed dealt with, dinner had to go in the oven and I had to prepare for the week, for the babysitter, for work, for well, everything.

Nine months into this whole parenting thing and I can tell you this much: I'm delicately dealing with the balancing act. Some days, I've got it. Life is good and the world spins just as it should. Other days, not so much. I forget a small detail, or some wakes up too early or sleeps in too late and the rest of the day is completely shot. Such is life, I suppose.
Being a business owner, a mother, a volunteer, a board member and a wife is never easy. I often wonder if I didn't own a business, would I be in a working mom?

Hmm.... good question....

If I weren't a business owner, had never been a part of a family business, chances are I wouldn't be a working mom.

Don't get me wrong, I love my job. I love my career, my business, the people I see on a daily basis. However, when I leave work, I don't think about it again until I'm on my way back to it. When I'm at work, I think about my home, my family, my responsibilities there, all the time. It is just the way it is.

I'm forever balancing the responsibilities of work and home. I'm forever shuffling priorities and worrying about what is falling by the way side. I'm constructing offer letters while organizing a dinner menu. I'm taking conference calls while cutting coupons and writing out the grocery list.

I assume this is way it is for every working mom. At least I hope it is. I don't want to be the only one in the carpool lane some day with file folders in my diaper bag.

Let's Just Talk About May

As far as I'm concerned, April is over, 5 days early. I'm just over it. So, now onto May.


May is going to be a month for simplifying. That's my resolution, Simplify.

It occurred to me as I cleaned my house last night and there is entirely too much clutter and disorganization going on around these parts. It is driving me crazy. Absolutely, 100% bat shit crazy.

Literally, I just sat down and made a list of all the crap that is killing me. I nearly published it until I remembered that people might read this, and y'all would judge. Oh would you judge. You would say you weren't judging, but trust me, even I would judge.

And so.....

In May, I will de-clutter, I was rid my house of unnecessary crap. I will conquer the mess.

One closet, one bedroom, one room at a time.

This week I'll take on the kitchen. Please pray for us :)

Why Should I Care?

(fair warning: this is a typical nonsensical girl rant. it was not composed to make any sense. instead it is to make me feel better about some stupid person on the Internet)

Her name is Sherry Sherbet. ( okay that's not really her name but it's the name I came up with in case she ever googles herself, she won't find my absolutely delusional post about her.)

Anyway.....

She friend requested me about 4 years ago on Facebook. When I saw her request I couldn't quite place her, but I knew her name sounded familiar. Looking through some of her pictures, I could tell we attended the same college, knew some of the same people, but I still couldn't say for sure that I knew her. But her posts were funny, she was recently married just like me, and lived a couple of hours away, what could the harm be?

Well... I'll tell you.

She's a post whore.

She posts pictures every day. First it was of her house and her husband. Then it was of her first pregnancy, then they were of her daughter, then she got knocked up again so we had pictures of babies and bellies and then she had her son. This resulted in a million more pictures, then her son developed acid reflux (believe it or not you can take pictures of that) and then her daughter got hives, yes, HIVES. Terrible, life threatening (insert a big ass eye roll) hives. And then they got a dog and I wanted to shoot my eyes out. Meanwhile they renovated half their house, got a mini van, planted roses, went to the beach twice, the white house Easter Egg Roll twice and had a bunch of dumb parties.

I know all of this about a woman, I might have had a history class with in college. MIGHT HAVE.... I'm not 100% sure.

But, I am a masochist. I keep her on my feed. I see the pictures daily, I make shitty comments daily but I do nothing to stop it.

And then this morning...... oh this morning.

Stupid Sherry Sherbet posts two pictures, taken a year apart. The day she went in to have her son (she was HUGE) and one of her self on his first birthday. She ran a 10 mile race that morning. And she looked freaking incredible.

Yeah, I hate her. I am down right jealous.

And I have NO IDEA WHY.

There I said it.

Sherry Sherbet looks incredible. She worked really hard to look incredible and I'm pissed off about it.

She is now my sworn enemy. All because she had two babies, really close in age, post 39245829 million, billion pictures of them on the Internet and still find time to train for a 10 mile race. All while probably sucking it in like a hoover on picture day.

Yeah, I'm still jealous.

9 Months In- 9 Months Out

Last Tuesday, amid the chaos and craziness that was my week, Ryan turned 9 months old.

In some ways, it is unbelievable to reach such a milestone, it others, it makes perfect sense.

At 9 Months old Ryan.....
Weighs in a 17.64 pounds, putting him in the 7th percentile.
Stands 28.25 inches tall.... long and lean
Has a normal sized head which I cannot remember the size of.

He crawls, pulls up onto everything and anything, tries his best to clap his hands. He sometimes waves hello and goodbye, if the mood strikes him. He can say "dadadadada" but has no idea what it means. He chases the cat, loves to read books, likes anything having to do with the outside. Three times a day we try solids. It is always hit or miss but he's really getting into table food.

He still gets up once a night for a bottle. We will work on phasing that out but we are hoping he does it on his own. We'll see.

Ryan has bright blue eyes, from what we can tell, brown hair and has four teeth he loves to chomp with. And three more close behind.

He is love, love, loved!

Ryan saw a new pediatrician today. One that I met while I was pregnant. As he was going over Ryan's chart and commenting on his milestones and celebrations he asked me a question I thought was interesting. "How are you feeling? I saw in your chart that Ryan had a difficult birth but we don't have any details on that."

Since I don't have a filter, I explained Ryan's birth. His perfection and my total body breakdown.
He nodded quietly, typed a new notes and said "You really should celebrate your milestones too."

And so I will....

At 9 Months Postpartum...
I weigh 2 pounds more then I did the day I went in for my first appointment.
Although nothing fits like it did before (and never will again I'm sure) I am pretty satisfied with how I look and feel.
My hair is finally recovering from falling out like crazy. Although the fly-aways from growing back sure make me look silly.
My anemia has resolved itself, thanks to tons of spinach, iron supplements, citrus, meat, more spinach and baked potatoes (of all things?).
My blood pressure is within a normal range although higher then it was before I had Ryan. My doctor and I keep a close eye one it. With high blood pressure in my family, it could be the beginning of inheritance, unfortunately.
My strength and stamina is slowly coming back. Most days, I still feel more tired and weak then I did the morning I woke up to deliver Ryan. However, I am told that is very normal and I should start feeling better closer to Ryan's first birthday.

And next Spring we will look into adding one more to our family.... provided I'm sleeping through the night. I haven't made any promises yet.

All in all. With 9 months of parenting down, I saw this:
Life is really, really good.

Sweet Hesus

Here we go again...

I got into work this morning under the impression that I was going to have a very normal day. I had plans to get caught up on my To-Do list and make things happen.

Instead.... I got into work early, spent an hour getting caught up on the loose ends on my desk, neatly wrote out my To-Do list, checked my voicemail, drank some coffee, read a few blog posts and was about to get starting on the real work of the day when I got a phone call......

Mrs.Berg this is Officer Soandso from Fantasy Land County. I'm trying to get a hold of one of our employees in regards to an incident last night....

Great, just great.

And then my day went to hell.


Yay for me!



So, tomorrow, I will talk about my April Resolution.... since April is half way done already. (How did that happen?) And other regularly scheduled programing.


Sigh.... I swear, I should have gotten my degree in Adult Supervision instead of Human Resources Management.

Ugly People Will Not Win

It seems like only yesterday I was sitting down to talk about how just another day turned into a tragic chain of events. The ghost of that day still hangs heavy on all of us as again to are forced to face another tragic event, another round of losses and another day of wondering why?

I'm trying my hardest to focus on the good. There is so much sadness floating around right now. From the heartache impacting our friends and family to the tragic events in our fair city of Boston. It seems so hard to be positive. Yet, let us remember, positivity is the key to all of this. It ensures that we have rose above the madness, the sadness and the scary. It shows we are stronger then those who try to bring us down.

I refuse to give in. I refuse to stay sad, or live in fear, or constantly worry. Life is too short, the world it too beautiful of a place, and ugly people will not win. Nope, it's just not going to happen.

First World Problems OR How Shallow and Selfish Am I Today?

These are the issue "plaguing" me this week. Oh the woes of First World Problems.

(don't read this if you lack a sense of humor, 99% of this is written in jest)


The Cleaning Lady Situation:
The phone call on Friday went something like this:

Cleaning Lady: JBerg, I'm terribly sorry but I won't be able to clean your house next Thursday. I have to have surgery.
JBerg: Oh no, Mary, I'm so sorry to hear that.
CL: My doctor said I'll need to stay off my feet for two weeks and the following two weeks I should really take is easy.
JB: Well, Mary, just don't worry about it. We can live without you for a month. (in reality- no, we cannot... okay, we can but seriously, SHITSHITSHIT). We'll see you in May.
CL: Are you sure? I know how busy you are.
JB: Really, we'll be fine. You worry about yourself. (shitshitshit!)

I have to clean my OWN HOUSE? Crap!

In reality, we will be fine. I do know how to clean and I do clean, 3 weeks out of the month. I was just really looking forward to an off week.


The Damn Mr. Berg is Having a Birthday Situation

(this is redic... I am fully aware)

Tomorrow is Mr. Berg's 33rd birthday.

This means on top of all the other stuff I have to do on a random Tuesday, I also have to put out and I don't mean the regular weekday, quick kind.

The Weeper Situation
I once had an boyfriend who cried every frigging time something didn't go his way.
Seriously, I probably broke up and got back together with him 3 times because he wouldn't stop crying and I felt bad.
Weeping aside, he was a really nice guy and we really did just make better friends.
However, he ended up marrying a girl that HATED me. Like HATED me so much that if looks could kill, you'd all be at my funeral right now.
Anyway... it really wasn't a big deal.
After we broke up for the final time, oh man the tissues that guy went though..... I digress.....
After we broke up, we didn't really talk much. An email here and there. Nothing big.
So, it wasn't a huge deal that he married the girl that hated me. I'm sure they made a great couple....
except......
I just found out they are getting divorced....


I feel so badly for him.

So badly, I almost..... ALMOST.... friended him on facebook.
And then I clicked on his picture and I was like NEVERMIND.
That dude cries.... A LOT.
The I'm Off the Band Wagon Situation

I spent the past two weeks eating everything and I do mean everything. EVERYTHING.
Like, last Tuesday.... I ate a pimento cheese sandwich for breakfast, and then I had another one for lunch and then I had another one for a snack. Do you know how much pimento cheese that is?
I DO.
It is all sitting squarely on my belly.
GROSS!!

If I don't hope back on that band wagon soon, I am going to be in serious trouble.
As are my pants!

Well, we made it. Vacation day has arrived.

Granted, I still have to work a full day, pick up cupcakes for the babysitter, finish packing for Ryan, finished packing for Mr. Berg, double check what I packed, drop Ryan off at my parents, drive to the airport (in rush hour traffic), and then do the whole airport thing.

So technically, my vacation doesn't really start until Midnight. But whatever :)

Right now I am so mentally and physically drained that I'm having trouble functioning. Three seperate times in the past 24 hours I have felt like I could just drop to the floor. Normally, this would take a call to the doctor, however, my very recent blood work showed I'm a perfectly healthy adult female. So, I think it's mental. And I get it.

I have high hopes for this trip. I need a break. I need rest. Mr. Berg and I need time to reconnect.


Have a wonderful week, internet land.

Tomorrow....

This past summer, I found out I won tickets to the Master's Practice Rounds. Of course, we were excited. I even remember telling my mom "Mr. Berg and I could probably use a break by then."

Little did we know.....

The past 8 weeks or so have been trying and difficult and sad. We have close family going through a miserable divorce, close friends going through tough times in their marriage, our jobs are stable but stressful and then Bob died.

Last night as I rocked Ryan to sleep, tears rolled down my face. I wondered how much more God was going to throw at me. Hadn't we just gotten over some hard times? God had restored my health, returned our life to a manageable pace and now, here we are again. Navigating a a rocky sea.


Times like these make me want to grab onto my family a little tighter and count my blessing a little more carefully.

This break is much needed. I cannot wait to board our plane tomorrow evening and travel south. We need sunshine, warm breezes and the love of our friends. I miss the South, I miss it so much.


Today I'm focusing on the finish line. Listening to a lot of Zac Brown Band and getting a much, much needed pedicure.

(I'm also trying not to think about how much I'm going to miss Little Man. Who, by the way, will be just fine at his Grammy's house.)

Tonight I'll try my best not to be sad when I automatically pause when I open up a cupboard or a closet in case Bob is right behind me. I won't stop halfway when walking down the steps to let Bob pass me and I'll try not to fill up his bowl with food he won't be home to eat.

I'll thank God for our many blessings. I'll remind him to look out for Bob. I'll ask him to fill my heart again, because right now, it just seems so very, very empty

When Your Cat Dies

When your cat dies: You try not to cry in front of him because you know the moment is really about him (and not so much about you). But when you look into those big orange eyes you want to cry even harder because you know you'll never see them again.
When your cat dies: You try not to cry in front of the office staff, but then they start crying. So everyone cries.

When your cat dies: You still have to go to the bank and the grocery store and to work. The babysitter still needs paid, you have to still put dinner on the table. Even though life feels likes it should stop for a moment, it won't.

When your cat dies: You carry his collar in your purse because you don't really know where else to put it. You don't need it in your purse, but you can't stand the idea of not having it there. (You might smell it too because it smells like him.... and you know that's strange)

When your cat dies: You wear your sunglasses in your office because you don't want people to see you cry or ask you what is wrong. Even though something is seriously wrong, hell you're wearing your sunglasses INSIDE.

When your cat dies: You think of really dumb shit like if you could remove the towels from your furniture because he won't be there to shed anymore. You wonder what to do with his left over cat food and his pet bowl. You get sad because you know you won't need them anymore but you can't stand the thought of putting them away.

When your cat dies: You don't want to go home, because then it will be real. And it just can't be real, it just can't be.

When your cat dies: You cry every time you don't have something else to worry with. So, every time you use the bathroom, every time you wash dishes, fold laundry, walk down the hall, open the fridge... you cry.

When your cat dies: You cry every time you see your other cat. You feel terrible that she's suddenly alone and without her brother. Then you think of what would happen if you didn't have your brother anymore, and you cry all over again.

When your cat dies: You are suddenly very dramatic about everything. (see above)

When your cat dies: You lay down in bed the first night without him and you cry your deepest, saddest cry. You admit that even though you knew all the facts, knew the odds were against you, you still didn't want it to be true.

When your cat dies: You think about every time he was sick before and how you begged him not to die. And you feel so stupid for believing he never would.

When your cat dies: You feel his loss in everything you do. You cry and you feel sad. Yet you take comfort in the fact that he isn't hurting anymore. You smile because he made your life so much better and you did the most humane and wonderful thing for him. Even if it makes you cry.

Farewell Dear Friend

He was overweight despite that fact he probably threw up 5 times a week. He had the worst smelling breath you ever came in contact with, which isn't surprising when you read the first sentence. He had no regard for personal space. Nearly killed us all by winding around our feet as we walked down the steps.  He never cared much for rules, the car, loud noises, the door bell or pills. He was a walking ball of furr and purrs.

He was also my very best pal and constant companion for 15 years.

Bob passed away this morning. Over the weekend he started getting sick and x-rays and blood work from last night and this morning showed not only congestive heart failure but cancer too. Thanks to some medicine he was happy and comfortable for now, but it wouldn't have lastest long.

We could have tried medicine. It might have bought us a few weeks. But honestly, does a few more weeks matter when you've already borrowed five extra years?

I knew last night our time was limited and this morning I knew it was time to say goodbye.

He went peacefully, purring and licking everyone until the very last moment.
I'm not sure who cried more, the veterniary office staff or me. We all loved him, we all knew him. If one thing was true, it was that he never met a stranger. He always met a friend.

Bob has a halo now.
I'll miss him every day.