Time for a change

    Think back... Just for a moment... When you were a little kid there were times when you really wanted something. Like REALLLY wanted something, and you probably even expected to receive it. This can be something simple from a piece of candy when you were behaving at the store, a certain toy for your birthday, or even from Santa. And as we got older it switched to more important  things like highlights (was I the only one on this one) or that certain someone to like you back...or the pair of shoes that EVERYONE else had.
   Now remember the feeling that you got in the pit of your stomach when you didn't get it?
   Unfortunately that feeling still happens when you are an adult. Sucks huh? There will still be people who let you down, things you want that you just can't have, people you want and just can't have. There are going to be things you expect from others, whether they were promised to you...

    (She swore she wouldn't do that again.. or...  He promised next check we could go away for the weekend. or even...I really wanted to buy that car and then they sold it.)

or expected

                    I was next in line for that promotion, it should have gone to me because I have been here years longer... or...
                    I just assumed that you were going to give that back when you were done.
  
  Whatever the case may be, that feeling that creeps into us is the same feeling we had when we were a kid. The difference is that we feel now that we are older that the feeling of disappointment is irrational. We shouldn't get down about things like that.. it's just silly...
   The fact of the matter is that even though we are older we still have FEELINGS. We are HUMAN. We are vulnerable and proud. And a lot of us still live by the Golden Rule.
   Yes the same one from Kindergarten... everyone say it with me...Treat others the way you wish to be treated... or Do unto others as you wish to be done unto you. However you want to say it the principle is still the same. We treat our friends how we want our friends to treat us, we love our significant other the way we want to be loved, and sometimes they let us down.
   Does that make them terrible people? NO. Does that make us better than them??? NO. Does that mean that the relationship is not a mutual one? ... ? ... ?

Sometimes.

This is where Kindergarten failed us. ( I apologize to those of you reading this who are teachers or have been in the past.. You are doing a great job, keep it up, thanks for all you do because you have more patience than I do )........... Remember the song
                        " Make new friends
                           But keep the old
                           One is Silver 
                           And the other Gold." 
  Not to say this is wrong, sometimes when you make new friends the old ones are still great friends. Other times though it makes you realize what a friend is supposed to be. And sometimes that old friend is no longer someone you want to keep around. Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of friends who have done nothing wrong, we have just grown apart. I also have a good few who I realized are not people I want to be around anymore, not because my new friends are "better" but because my new friends give me something that I can not get from the old ones. And all of these have made me further appreciate the great friends I do have.
   One of my "new friends" said something to me about marriage that I believe to be true about friendship as well... She said something along the lines of "You're role as a wife is not about the things you do for your husband. Those things can be done by someone else. Someone else can clean the house, he can raise the kids... You're role is about what you do for him that if something were to happen to you, NOBODY else in the entire WORLD could give him. The behind the scenes love and support that only you were made to do."
   If a marriage is in essence the best friendship you have, then wouldn't the same be true for all of your friendships? My friendships are not about who I can get to do things for me, or who I can call when I need to vent. They are not about the favors that I do for them, nor about the favors they do for me. My relationship is different with each friend I have. I know who I can count on for what. I have a friend that if I ever needed money for an emergency that I could turn to. Not that I would want to ask, or even that she would have it to give, but she would do it anyways. I have another friend that I can talk to about things I can not talk to anyone else about, and honestly know that they will stay between us. I have a few friends that I can turn to when I need a good trip down memory lane. Another I can turn to when I need some help getting my head on straight, and another I can turn to when I need an excellent laugh. To all of these people I provide a different, but mutual service I guess you could say.
   
   In discovering this way of thinking I also had to admit that some of my friendships (and previous relationships) fell apart because I was not offering something they could not find elsewhere... OUCH.
   The thing about maturity and growing up is that you have to sometimes take the road less traveled by in order to be a better person. You just have to learn ( I say learn because as most of you know it is not easy, and it takes time to perfect, it sometimes comes with hurt feelings all around ) to say "this is not what's best for me, and I think we should go our separate ways" even when its not what we want to do.

   Why?

   Because as someone once told me... Growth can not be achieved without stepping out of your comfort zone. We must do things we don't want to do, and give up things we want to do in order to become the person we were meant to be. If you want more than what you have something has to change.
   well...
   I WANT MORE.

6th sense

   Saturday morning I woke up with this awful feeling in my stomach..  I know most people don't believe intuition or whatever you want to call it, but there is a reason that you often here the following statement.

"Momma KNOWS"

  It starts as an irrational fear. For instance I kept checking to make sure Ellie was breathing, moving the blankets away from her face etc. When I got out of the bed (she had just finished nursing) to get JT I brought him back in the room with me rather than taking him downstairs and going back up to get her. I kept reminding Ian she was in the bed.
   Of course everything was fine. Ian left for a call (one of the thousand he ran that week) and I got the kids ready to run some errands.. For some reason I put Ellie's sunglasses on.. thinking the sun might give her a headache or keep her up and she needed to sleep.. not something I normally do. We ran around town picking up a few things and when we got home I left her in her seat. when she started fussing I assumed she was hungry and took her out to feed her.
   Her whole body was burning up. I laid her on the floor, got a diaper and the thermometer. Some of you may think I am mean, but I take her temperature rectally.. I still take JT's that way too. Her reading was 103.1 so I gave her some Tylenol, called Ian and nursed her. I waited about half an hour and checked again.. pretty much no change. I think it had gone down to 102.7
   I pretty much started freaking. which of course solves nothing and just makes Ian mad. I called the pediatrician, hopped on the computer (what would we do without Google???) and arranged for my Brother-in-law to come watch JT.
   We ended up in the ER (my insurance does not cover any urgent cares in the area). After they held her down to take some blood they decided to test her urine. There is nothing worse than standing there watching someone try to cath your 6 month old baby. I am pretty sure it has been a long time since I wanted to punch someone that badly... well except for the dumb B***h that almost t-boned me with Ellie and JT in the car one day by running a stop sign at 45 mph and then gave me the finger like I had done something wrong.
   After all was said and done they sent me home with no answers and just told me to watch her, keep her cool and if it gets "worse" to come back in. They also left me with this tid bit... "its good that she has not started seizing. normally babies her age with a fever this long start to have seizures" Grrreat. Go see the pediatrician on Monday. Helpful.
   Her fever stayed between 101 and 102 for the remainder of the weekend. On Monday we made it to the doctor first thing in the morning and I finally got some answers.  She had a viral infection that had been going around. Not sure where she got it from, but happy that it did not spread to the rest of the family, not happy that now I need to sterilize everything in my house .... AGAIN!
   The best part is that this wonderful bug that decided to grace us with its presence also leaves with a nasty rash. So Ellie is no longer running a fever (after 5 days) but she has a wonderful hive looking rash covering every cm of her skin. It looks as if someone snuck in and speckled my baby pink. Not sure how long this will last..  but I really hope it goes away soon.

Parenting for the broke.

  Growing up my father always provided everything we needed, and most of what we wanted. He tried very hard to keep us happy, and now more than ever I appreciate it. As a parent I now know how hard it is to watch other children have things that you want for your children. It is even harder to watch your child want for something that you simply do not have the money to buy.
  Thankfully Ian and I are working on being able to move past that problem, but in the meantime there are things we go without. My children wear hand-me-downs. I did it, and many of my favorites were actually hand-me-downs, not to mention the kids grow too darn fast to constantly change out their wardrobes.. My children get things from Craigslist ( seriously craigslist is amazing!) and from Goodwill. I have had some amazing finds there! And my personal favorite..  The Weecycled Wardrobe...  Vicky and Penny are amazing for putting forth the effort to organize that!! someone should write them a thankyou card larger than my townhouse.. just sayin'
  I have been reading this book..The 7 Ancient Keys to Happiness  ..not every day unfortunately the way it is supposed to be read, but I get to it and do the excercises and it is definitely on my recommended reads list..  The last daily excercise was to make a list of everything you are grateful for that you have. It made me realize that even though I would love to have a million things for the children that often JT plays with some of the most random things..  
  This is a list of some of them off the top of my head...

• Diaper boxes-pushes them, hides things in them.. climbs in them
• Toilet paper roll holders (he presses them up against the wall and likes to watch them fly when he lets go)
• my keys, shoes and broken cell phones (normal for todays toddlers I know)
• empty soda bottles
• magnets.. This child convinced his grandma to buy him a $3 magnet from the made in VA store so that he can stick it on the fridge and take it off a million times a day
• his own carseat
• his sisters car seat
• drink pitchers
• cheese grater.. have to hide it
• store bags (he pretends he is leaving)
• the broom
• the dvd cases ( he is known to use them instead of blocks and I find piles of them all over the house)

I know there are many many more things that I have come across, and believe me he is not hurting for clothes or toys, but thinking about all of these things that he spends most of his time studying and learning and playing with has brought something further to my attention...


I am able to provide my child with a million things that other children do not have. The more creative I am, the larger his imagination is and will be. And just as in everything else.. the material possessions can not replace the laughs and memories that we make together by rolling my son up in a blanket and rolling him across the floor, playing "Horsie", or making puppets out of his socks and shoes.

Thanks Daddy for taking the time to show me that quality time can not be replaced by material possessions.. and for showing me the clearance racks.

This room is carpeted? that's good to know.

   So recently I have been trying to keep the house in order...  ha ha to all of you who know me this really is an impossible task for me. I am famous for leaving my clothes on the floor, dishes on the table, laundry on the couch. I would go on, but the object here is not to embarrass myself by my lack of cleaning habits.
   So anyways, back to cleaning house... I spent one whole day cleaning my downstairs, yes I live in a townhouse and the bottom half of my house is a kitchen, half bath, toy area and living area.. it took me about 6.5 to 7 hours..( back to mycleaning habits) I scrubbed the floor by hand.. not really so much that I wanted to do it by hand but we don't actually own a mop... GASP.. and I was out of swiffer refills.. not that those would have helped me much either, come to find out the batteries were dead too. I wiped the walls, sanatized the toys, tried to remove some stains from the carpet. Honestly not sure why I tried that one, the carpets here are beyond hope between my coffee habit and my sons habit of dumping it in the floor. I washed the windows, did every dish I could find (should have checked my nightstand.. hind sight sure is a pain inthe rear huh?) etc. It even for once smelled nice in my house. Not that it lasted too long, I mean come on I have 2 kids, a dog, a cat, I babysit and have you MET my husband?
   After all of this I got really busy with various things and did not get around to the upper half. The kids rooms are not bad but my room is a disaster.. I have not actually set foot in my closet in a few weeks. It has been that long since the clothes have been put away that even if I could GET to the closet, there would be no point cause there is nothing there. There is a foot wide path from the door of the room into the bathroom which is on my side of the bed.
  All of this IS actually relevant believe it or not.
  So the other morning JT is in the room with us while Ian is getting ready to leave and I am nursing. He normally comes in and gets into everything like normal toddlers do.  This occassion however was different. After walking (or should I say mountain climbing) around my room  for a few minutes he looks at Ian and starts to sing the clean up song. He then bends down and starts to pick up the clothes off the floor and put them on the bed.
  While absolutely hilarious, this worries me. Have I... the perpetually messy parent.. taught my son to be a neat freak? Is he going to have some issues because I can not keep the house clean??  Or better yet. Who is he going to go tell that I am a complete mess. LOL.
   I have this fear of becoming a hoarder...Terrible and funny yes, but super realistic. I not only keep things because I like things, and am crafty.. and to anyone out there who is crafty... you know that there are things in your craft bin that people thing are completely strange even though it makes super good sense to you. But also because I have a tendency to leave things where they are and walk past them..
  I am working on translating the gift to pretend things are not there into something productive.. but seriously what good can you make from that?? any good ideas?

Gotta Go, Gotta Go, Gotta Go Right NOW!

   ok..  Lets talk post delivery bladder issues.. Yup..  not a fun conversation and actually one of the things that mothers like to talk about least apparently..  They will gladly tell you how much giving birth hurts, how long it has been since they have seen their feet, how ever since having a child the smell of onions makes them vommit..  even about how little they sleep or the consistency of their 1 yr olds poo.... 
   What they will not say is this...  When you have a baby.. that child is not the only one who needs a diaper sometimes. Cold?  Panty liners are a must. Allergies?  You should def re-consider those khakiis. I cannot even tell you how many days out of my Mommy Lifetime that I have peed myself. Gross? YES.. But welcome to reality.
  In a perfect world women give birth go back to their regular pant size and shoe size...  (believe it or not your FEET of all things change from pregnancy) Their hair goes back to the way it has always been, and those pesky stretchmarks dissapear on their own. Reality is... you lie to yourself and say that it is ok because you would not have it any other way..  Or my personal favorite.. "I needed new boots anyways"



   The kids and I are finally getting over a lovely bug that was passed to us so kindly by another child. We were out and about the other day, I wearing my ONLY pair of shorts, Ellie and JT wearing whatever seemed appropriate through my watery eyes at the moment. I have this left over cough that just does not want to go away, and is not helped by any of the cough medications that lactation has approved. (Apparently the price for feeding your child the healthiest thing for them is that when you are unhealthy you must SUFFER.. ironic huh?)
   Anyways.. There I am in the middle of the store when the coughing hits and I feel it coming on strong..  I am about to choke to death...imagine the beautiful image of me pushing a double stroller red faced and bent over in the store hacking up a lung...  When all of a sudden bladder control decides to fail me. I practically had pee running down my leg. Thank JESUS that nobody was around save for the wonderful security cameras which I am sure are monitored by either someone I know or a really hott guy; just my luck. So I reach in the kids diaper bag.. trying to play it off.. and grab a baby wipe and wipe it off..  run to the bathroom clean up and there I am.. standing under the hand dryer with the crotch of my pants when this old woman walks in...
  She stares at me like I am a moron until you see the lightbulb go off above her head... She smiles politely and looks me dead in the face and hands me a coupon for Depends..,.
  Well I have been collecting coupons but SERIOUSLY!?

That's what friends are for...

   So, without diving into specifics, I found myself between a rock and a hard place today.
   A friend of mine needed some good advice, advice that I wanted very much to give, but found that I couldn't without causing some major issues not only in my marriage but in a friendship of my husbands. What then was I supposed to do. I was raised to be honest with my friends, to always be a good friend, even when the other person can not do the same.
   But, how could I be a good friend to someone when it meant risking being a good friend to my best friend, my husband? I found myself doing something that I very much did not want to do, for the sake of my relationship with my husband.
   I told him everything. I told him what happened (he already knew) and I told him what I said, so that if it came up he would know everything and could either chose to defend me, or stand by his friend.
   Now how do I remain a good, trustworthy friend if I had to betray her trust and discuss it with the one person she asked me not to talk to? I did the best that I could think to do, and told her what I had done, and why.  Thankfully she is a good friend as well, and she understood my predicament. She was ok with it, and now it can be out in the open, and we can all try to work through the situation together, as unfortunately, we are all now involved.
  I wish that friendships could always be as easy as it was in elementary school. That you could be loyal to everyone without having to hurt anyones feelings. However, things become a bit more complicated through the years, and a best friend, a friend and a spouse all have to compete..

   I send my regards to everyone involved, praying that we can work this out as adults with as little sacraficed as possible...But I leave with this note,


                       Always be the kind of friend that you want someone to be to you. Whether that be to a new friend, an old friend, a best friend, a bad friend, or the person you choose to spend your life with. If you can lay your head down at night knowing that you were the best friend you could be, friends who do the same will fall into your life. After all.... what goes around comes around.

Bedroom Talk

   CAUTION: ADULT CONVERSATION AHEAD!
                        MAY NOT BE APPROPRIATE FOR FAMILY



   When I first got married I learned something about my husband, he believed that sex was something special between 2 people that love each other. Sex should not be expected or discussed, it should be sporadic and an expression of your love.
   No offense to my husband, or anyone else who believes that, but what I heard was BLAH BLAH BLAH.
   Seriously? Why had this not come up before? I have always thoroughly enjoyed sex. I even got teased by my guy friends for it. They always told me that I had a male brain... So how in HELL did I end up with the one guy who did not see things the same way as me?
   There were fights about it, long conversations about it and an agreement to disagree. We would get so irritated with each other that we would sometimes go a month or more without being intimate, his way or mine. And then I got pregnant. All of a sudden my husband had just as much interest as I did. Then I had our son and I did not really have the energy, Honestly how can you find the energy for any decent roll in the hay when you are covered in breastmilk, haven't had a shower that has lasted more than 5 minutes in weeks, and are so scatter-brained that not even a pot of coffee puts any clarity on your day?
   Add to all this the immense feeling of being unattractive because you have stretch marks in places you didn't know even grew while you were pregnant and every time the baby cries or your husband touches you, you spring a leak.
   Our sex life finally got to a normal pace after about 5 months.. I say normal as in like once every 2 weeks if I was lucky... sad huh? A few months after that 2 lines showed up on a dollar store test and things went for a new ride.. I quickly realized (although if you ask anyone who talked to me those first 20 weeks they will tell you I was in denial--- totally true) that I was having a girl, because for the first time in my life I could not be happier to have a man who did not need to have sex every day... Or at least I thought.
  How was I supposed to know that the extreme amounts of estrogen I was secreting in the form of vomit and tears would somehow turn my husband on? After lots and lots of turning him down I had Ellie. After 6 weeks and the implantation of a wonderful device called an IUD, our sex life took on a life of it's own. Now sex is a several times a week thing. Our sex life is exciting, it's great. (Sorry for the TMI) And we are finally on the same page.
   I hope it stays that way. I aspire to be one of those married couples whose children say "EW, you are too OLD to do that" because it may scar them slightly and embarass them lots, but you know... He is my husband, I committed to him for the rest of my life, to enjoy sex with him and him only for the rest of my life, so I fully intend on doing just that. Enjoying sex with my husband, for the rest of my life.
   I guess the whole point here is this... Several newly married friends have asked me what my sex life is like, and if it changed after we got married. The answer is yes, several times.. so don't give up on a crappy one, it might get better, and don't take that great sex life you have going on for granted.


     Happy rolling in the sack to all of you.
 

That happens?

   Forget "Terrible 2's" Forget guns and violence. Heck, forget potty training...I have decided after talking to a few other moms that there is something that needs to be said about little boys to anyone who either...
    A.) Does not have children  or
    B.)  Is pregnant with a boy

 Short and sweet here goes.

   Sometime you have to change diapers where your cute cuddly little boy has a hard on. We are not talking getting ready to pee so change with haste, we are talking.. he has been playing with his junk and like a full grown man.. he has an erection.
   Now I know that this is a natural thing. I understand that my little boy will one day grow up to be a man, but in all honestly I like to pretend that every guy in my family is like a Ken doll...  When they remove their pants there is nothing there... (I take this mentality as a protection mechanism, seriously who wants to think about their dad or brothers or uncles having a penis? EW.) I fully intend on forgetting my son has a penis when he is old enough to bathe himself. I will tell myself that his children were created by miracle, or some other ridiculous idea until I believe it whole heartedly in order to get out of having to think about it. I have even told Ian that supplying the first condoms are his job, and I am not to be consulted.
     I have been told about potty training and aiming for cherrios, but seriously, I do not have a penis, so why am I the one teaching him how to aim.. (although, it might be a good idea, have you seen the mens restroom recently??) I was told that if lint gets in the pee hole he might shoot at the walls. I am even prepared for explaining what it is, what it is called and how it works, and where babies come from.
    BUT...Nobody bothered to tell me that my little boy would fight with me when putting his diaper on so that I would leave it off and he could grab his "peepis" Nobody bothered telling me that erections existed before potty training. Nobody told me that he would think grabbing his stuff was funny and walk around with his hand down his pants giggling like a school girl. I mean honestly it never even occured to me. Why would it?
   I have always believed in being honest with my children.. taken a "if they have the balls to ask I have the balls to answer" approach. But really?? what do you tell a 20 month old about self pleasure?? He doesn't understand why he has to go to bed at night when he doesn't want to, I am pretty sure he is not going to understand that touching himself is supposed to be private.
   I have never even thought about how I would respond in this situation, more or less ASKED anyone what to do.
   So for anyone reading this who might one day have a boy, do yourself a favor... ask someone what there is to know. It might be more worth your while than you realize, not to mention sharing sometimes results in an extremely good laugh.

Jiggle Jiggle Shake Shake

After delivering Ellie I decided I was going to try to get back in shape. This is a much harder task than it should be considering the following...
    - I am one of those people who believe that there is no reason to run unless you are being chased by someone or something.
    - I have 2 children, my life revolves around them, so finding time to work out is a lot easier said than done.
    - I am a habit eater. For those of you who don't know what that is, it means that I eat not only out of boredom, but simply because it is there, and I snack simply because it is a certain time of day that I am used to eating.
    - My weakness is chocolate, and carbs are like a demon with a damn convincing reason why I should come over to the dark side..
 Now I have been making an effort to get to the gym, I have been attemting to use self control, and trying to eat healthier things when I just want to snack for the hell of it...I am doing all of this for me, not for anyone else. Honestly other than my husband I could not really care less what someone elses opinion of my weight is. But seriously??  I am a size 10, granted MUCH larger than I was in highschool, but I am not a big person. I do not think that I am disgusting when I look in the mirror or anything of the sort. I just know that I could afford to lose a little weight and be more toned. And doing all of this would make me feel more comfortable.
 So why is it that the doctor is telling me I am "slightly obese"? Have they lost their friggin' minds?
No offense to those of you out there who are stick thin, all the more power to you! but... Why should I have to feel uncomfortable wearing a close fitted shirt because I actually have breasts and some meat on my bones? Or hear comments from people in the store walking by about my tight jeans.. I had a big butt when I was a size 1, did you really think it was going to go away when I put on some weight? There are millions of people out there who DO have weight problems and they have no shame in the world about wearing spandex and bikinis. I have not only 1, but several good reasons for my extra weight.. (their names are JT, Ellie, Ian and an effed up thyroid) and yet I am the one who is ashamed?
 I have a theory that if everyone walked around completely naked that less people would get picked on for image. This way models would not be airbrushed to fool us all into thinking their bodies are perfect.. cause hunny they have stretchmarks from their babies too,OH and hello cellulite, glad to know you visit someone else sometimes too! So if models, the same people we are looking at to depict what we "should" look like have to be airbrushed, what do you think the lady standing in front of you in line looks like? It is a shame that we have to be so self concious about our bodies around the people we love simply for fear of someone realizing we are not perfect... 
 The people who are judging us have their own imperfections.. they scrutinize themselves in the mirror too. I love my children with all my heart, they are the best things I have ever done, and I am proud of them.. So while I work my inner thighs and flabby arms away at the gym until summer...  I know that I am not blessed with a perfect body, I am blessed with imperfections as a reminder of my best work... and this summer.. I plan to wear my bright purple stretchmarks with pride. If you don't like it, look the other direction.

Do I smell poop or did I forget deodorant again?

  Ponytail holder, hair tie, hair band... I don't care what you call it, I call it an everyday essential. Seriously, how many times have I thrown my hair up in a ponytail, messy or neat, and walked out of the door since becoming a mom? I think it would be easier to count the times my overpriced blowdryer and hair straightener have been used since the day I found out I was pregnant with JT.
  I swore as a teen looking at young moms that I was not going to do that. That I would never go out in sweats and a baggy stained t-shirt without make-up on. I was going to be one of those pretty glowing pregnant women in magazines. I was going to eat right, wear cute maternity clothes, continue wearing my heels, show off that belly.  PFFT. That went out the window when morning sickness rolled around for the first time. Nobody told me that the only thing I could keep down would be lollipops and dry toast. Or that the only time I would sleep would be with the help of some benedryl or tylenol PM. I'm sorry but when you have been awake for weeks on end with small naps between toilet huggings and feet propping, a stained t-shirt is the equivelent of a little black dress. Besides, at that point, no amount of makeup and shiny material will draw away from the heavy bags under your eyes from crying over everything you come across anyways,(seriously I cried everytime I watched The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. WHO DOES THAT?) so why waste the time? I was also going to be one of those moms whose children never went out in anything but the best clothing and always matched (a task I might add is much easier to do when you can keep your eyes open long enough to pay attention to the color shirt you just put on your child.. and of course it's backwards... effing GREAT) with brushed hair and clean faces.
  Since those days I have learned that occassionally you grab the only thing that has not been spit up on, used as a snot rag, spilled on etc. for a quick run to the store. (Hell it's Walmart anyways, maybe I will make it into one of those trashy e-mails that get sent around the world compiled of the ridiculous things people get caught wearing.) Now these are not neccesarily a requirement for the clothing you are putting on yourself, because when on earth was the last time that mountain growing in the bedroom made it into the washer anyways? If you leave your hair down it will get pulled on, used as a toy... occassionally a chew toy (gotta love teething babies) mysteriously wet, or so far my favorite...  you will find some unidentifiable food like substance in the middle of a knot worthy of just saying to hell with it and growing dreads. Makeup would be nice yes, but why bother spending the time when you are going to have to wash your face 10 minutes later because your wonderfully cute wobbling toddler decided to wipe some sort of stickyness on it after tricking you into getting that close by pretending to want a kiss. The kiss probably would have ruined it anyways now that you look closer because there are somehow dried boogers and snot globs stuck in his hair. Not that it matters because the baby just added a new accessory to your only clean shirt...  Is that pee or did she spit up? (eh.. it'll dry before I get there.)
  So I apologize on behalf of all moms to those of you without children for our appearance sometimes... the way I see it is this...  My little ones sees me as their hero no matter what I am wearing, how my hair is styled or what I smell like. (Now if only my husband went by these standards.) So if you happen to see me out at the store frantically searching for something in the wrong aisle while yelling at a toddler to get back here and carrying a carseat that is the size of a small yacht, do me a favor. Grit your teeth, breathe through your mouth, tell me I look great, and pretend it never happened, because believe me I have looked and smelled worse, and one day this might be you. And if for whatever reason you feel compelled to tell me the truth, follow it up with how cute my kids are and I will not even remember you said anything by the time you walk away.

All Grown Up

   I sit here today trying to write my first ever blog. I have been wanting to do something like this for a while and honestly am just not technologically savy enough to figure it out until now. I plan on being honest, not only about my past, but about everyday life. My grammar may not always be perfect, my language on days may not be proper, and frankly I may be touching on some taboo topics, such is life.
  Before I dive in let me explain a little about myself and where all this is coming from.
  I am 24, I am married and I have 2 children. My son James (JT) is 19 months. My daughter Ellie is 2 months. I have a dog (more along the lines of a pain in the butt rat) named Cookie and an even larger pain in the rear cat named Peaches. I am a stay at home mom. The last time I had a job I was 22 and 7 months pregnant with my son. My husband, Ian is great. He works hard so that I can stay home with the kids, and in addition to his everyday job we have a side business.
   I feel like I woke up one day and adulthood had smacked me in the face... HARD. I remember my dad telling me a lot that I should stop trying to grow up so fast. Apparently I was totally boy crazy and although I hardly got in trouble I wanted more responsibility and privileges than I needed at my age. Sometime during the normal fights between a teenage girl and her parents I actually grew up. All of a sudden I am a mom, I have pets, bills, cars and a house to care for.
  I remember listening to the stories about having children, I clearly remember all the horrible details of sex ed (mainly the gross stuff that they tell teenagers to convince them abstenence is the way to go) I remember watching the videos of child birth, I remember the talks about bills and responsibilities and my older cousins telling me that growing up is not all it's cracked up to be. Somehow through all of this I still maintained my want for the traditional family, which I did NOT have growing up.) I also still wanted lots and lots of babies (preferably 3 hell raising boys who would tear up my furniture and make me rip my hair out---- Sorry Ellie)
  Though I clearly remember all of that stuff, I am pretty sure there are lots of things that I was NOT told. This blog is sort of a way to explore those subjects and for those of you who don't have children, let you know that the parents who glorify the experience... well they are full of shit. Here is my version of reality. I hope you enjoy it.