It's All About Me in 2012

This is the year for me, the mom. For the past six years and seven months I have put myself on the back burner. Beginning June 1, 2005, the day I became "Supermom" for the first time, I have taken care of everyone but myself. Now it's time for that to change.

My pre-preggo size 6 jeans are in a box in the shed. I am determined to fit into them again! I have constantly made excuses as to why I don't have time to work out, and have eaten more than my share of leftover mac 'n cheese. But now, it's all about me! I have dusted off my treadmill and made it a priority to work out every morning. As an added bonus, my kids have even learned how to make their own breakfast if they can't wait until I'm finished working out.

When I lose my first 10 pounds, I am going shopping - for me! I spend a ton of money making sure my daughter looks like a diva, but my wardrobe is more circa Target 1999. The new me is going to lose the frumpy mom sweats!

My career also took a rear view mirror spot during my children's early years. This year I am going to figure out what I need to be happy and successful and I am going to make those dreams come true.

Couple time has also been scarce since parenthood hit us like a ton of bricks. This year, I want to bring our relationship even closer together. We've done pretty well with family bonding, but couple time seems rare. So today, I took my free hotels.com voucher and booked a night away at the suite where we stayed on our wedding night. I can't wait for an entire 24-hours of kid-free time! Who knows, maybe we'll even get to the point of leaving the munchkins for a real get-away at some point in the near future.

I have also decided that guilty pleasures are okay, and they are good for my mental health. My day starts out great if I can watch 20 minutes of House Hunters with a warm cup of coffee before having to get everyone else ready.

It has taken me a long time to figure this out, but to be a good parent, you first need to be good to yourself. What do you have planned for yourself today?

Stacey Ackerman is the author of Supermom: A Postpartum Anxiety Survival Story and lives in Lakeville, Minn., with her husband Eirik and children Evan, Eithan and Emily.

Missing You

Last Monday I had three kids at home all day. Sick. With the flu. Stuck inside on a cold Minnesota winter day. It was the day from hell. I just wanted it to end. As I tried to grade papers for my online classes, clean up diarrhea, sanitize everything and keep the kids from killing each other, I wanted nothing more than to run away.

I called my husband at work in desperation saying, "Don't go anywhere after work. Come home immediately. I need to get out of here!"

I could feel my chest tighten and my nerves go crazy. There is nothing I hate more than being confined at home. It makes me feel trapped and claustrophobic. Even if I wouldn't go anywhere, knowing that I couldn't go anywhere made me feel insane.

To make matters worse, my kids didn't have fevers with this bug, so their energy level wasn't compromised. They had full ammunition for tattling and insults.

"Mom, Eithan took my toy!" said Evan. "Mommy, Emily hit me!" cried Eithan. "I'm poopy 'gain," said Emily.

When Eirik walked in the door at precisely 4:24 p.m. I made my escape. Phew, I'm out of prison, I thought to myself.

I went to Panera to grab some dinner alone and try to grade papers in peace. I took a deep breath and enjoyed the peace and quiet.

Until, it happened. I heard the laughter of small children. And then I felt really sad and lonely. It had only been an hour or so, but I missed my three little people. I felt guilty that I wasn't more patient today, and that I wasn't enjoying the time I got to spend with them.

I missed their little laughs, their funny jokes, their adorable smiles. Why couldn't I see those things all day? Why did I only see the shittiness of the day?

Tomorrow I will try to enjoy the cute smiles, despite the crap that the day may bring.

Embracing Halloween

This year, I embraced Halloween with open arms. I am not afraid of this spooky holiday any more. I was finally able to truly feel joy in this celebration and it has become a special day for our family.

Two years ago things were very different. I was in the midst of a postpartum crisis, locked away in a hospital psych ward. I can remember looking out of the window in the hospital gathering room and longing to be with my children, who were looking forward to trick or treating that evening. I cried uncontrollably, because the separation and pain I felt at that moment was too unbearable.

That night it became public information about where I had gone. In fact, my neighbors hadn't even noticed I had been missing for a week, but found it strange that I was no where in sight when my husband took the kids out for Halloween without me.

This was my first step in being honest with my situation. Even though it felt shameful to share our family crisis, it was out there.

Last year Halloween was really difficult. I was still experiencing a lot of post-traumatic stress disorder and the day triggered a lot of that trauma. I treaded lightly last Halloween. This year I embraced it fully.

For years from now, Halloween will be a family affair. As long as we are all together, it's alright by me.

Stacey Ackerman is the author of Supermom: A Postpartum Anxiety Survival Story and lives in Lakeville, Minn., with her husband Eirik and children Evan, Eithan and Emily.

Body Art

Body art is kind of cool. On adults that is. Body art is not so cool when your two pre-school age boys decide to create Picasso-style art on each others' bodies. And I do mean every square inch of their bodies. Yes, even their "junk" was colored in marker.

I should have known better when I asked them to go downstairs and clean the basement and then I heard it - silence. The kind of silence that happens when they are up to no good. But instead of trusting my instincts that mayhem may be going on downstairs, I took the opportunity to have a shower in peace. A whole 10 minutes to myself.

My oldest son Evan was so proud of his creativity, that he came up the stairs and said, "Mom, you've got to see Eithan. He looks so tough!"

I think he was shocked by my reaction of absolute horror when my then three-year-old walked up stark naked and covered in marker shades of red, blue, purple, green, and orange. Evan actually thought he was doing something nice to his little bro.

Then came up baby Em, then one, with her bare feet covered in every color of the rainbow. Horror. All I could think about was how horrified I was. What a bad mother I was for leaving my little darlings unsupervised. But I really needed a shower!

Now don't get me wrong, I love art work and creativity, but this is where I draw the line!

Yes, it was washable marker, but in case your kids ever try this at home, red does not wash off for at least three days! My kids looked like they had streaks of blood running down their bodies.

Punching Out

Welcome to the re-launch of my blog! Yes, I started a few posts last year, but you know, life gets busy. Anyway, I'm taking another stab at it and I hope you'll join me for the journey.

If you're a mom like me, whether it's to one kid or to 12, it's a tough job. And unlike any other job, there is no "lunch hour", "break" or "time to clock out". And forget vacation days and sick days, moms don't get those either.

I remember one night when my boys, 4 and 6, who share a room, would not go to bed. It had been a long day and I was exhausted. Apparently my husband was too, because when I asked him to go check on them, his response was, "It's 8 o'clock and I'm off the clock."

Really, off the clock? Can parents do that? My husband thinks he can. When the clock turns eight, parenting is done.

He's a stellar dad, don't get me wrong. He takes the kids to the park, on hikes and watches them when I work. He really is one-of-a-kind when it comes to being hands-on. That is, until 8 o'clock.

One night I came home around 10 p.m. to find my husband downstairs on the treadmill and my boys running around like monkeys on the loose upstairs.

"What's going on up there?" I asked the hubs. "I don't know. It's past 8 o'clock," he replied.

Now, what if moms were to take on this same philosophy? I guess the kids would eventually go to sleep. Or would they?

I think the rules are different for moms. We're always on the clock. When the kids are barfing at 3 a.m., we're there cleaning it up. We don't have time to be sick. Someone's got to keep the household from falling apart.

But maybe we should try "punching out" at 8 o'clock. Maybe we need a break. A glass of Riesling and a little cookie dough. Perhaps I'll give it a try.