Shhhh!

 Inspired by one of my fave bloggers – Ashley @ LMM , who has been talking about secrets lately in her corner of blog-dom…

Secrets -- everybody has 'em.  Sometimes it's good to let them out because once you say it out loud, it might spur you on to offer that apology, stop that bad habit, take a leap toward that dream, or get out of that situation.  So, in the interest of full partial disclosure {What?  Did you think I was going to fully open my personal Pandora's Box?  Nah, I'm just going to crack the lid a bit.} here are some of my secrets:

 Source

1)     

I   I wear my jeans more than once without washing them.  {I HATE those tight, uncomfortable, 'poured-in' feeling hours between the time jeans come out of the dryer and when they finally crack under all the pressure ease into a more 'relaxed' fit.}

 

2)      I would give my {put any non-vital organ name here} to be in a book club.  Yeah, I'm a nerd that way.  I love to read.  I love to talk.  I love to argue and discuss.  I would be a book club natural!  {So which one of you is going to start a book club with me?  Come on, any takers?}     Plus, who thinks a Saturday afternoon that includes chatting, coffee, snacks, and adult conversation doesn't sound like a teensy slice of heaven?  

3)      I get a tad anxious freak out about spending money on large purchases and HATE putting things on a credit card.  In fact, I refuse to have any. I cut up all of mine {and all but one of BabyDaddy's - I spared the one he uses for his business.}  I had to hand over some of our financials to BD because watching perfectly normal and necessary spending {like, um, groceries— *blush*} stack up each month made me physically ill and BD got tired of my psychotic panic sessions when things were just fine.  Money scares me to death.  We REALLY need to move into a bigger house, {it's totally time – it's BEEN time for a while now} but I am dragging my heels and offering excuse after excuse {TOTALLY making things up along the way} to BD about putting our home on the market in order to drag it out so that I don't have to deal with it.  Even though I know we will make a smart financial decision and ask for a million opinions from our families before we get CLOSE to signing on the dotted line, simply the idea of all the zero's involved in purchasing another home makes me feel like I'm going to hurl.  

4     The majority of the time that BabyDaddy isn't at home, I will LITERALLY not do one iota of housework.  I will play with the kids, and then after putting them to bed, read or catch up on TV to my heart's content.  I will let the trash overflow, throw my dishes onto the already existing pile in the sink, and ya'll already KNOW how I feel about some laundry.  {Obviously, this is no secret to BabyDaddy, as he calmly and patiently cleans up after me when he comes home.  Seriously, how did I end up with such a man?! *Squeal*}

5)   I don't make time for girlfriends.  I have some really awesome ones too.  They deserve for me to be a wonderful, considerate, thoughtful, PRESENT friend.  But I am HORRIBLE about friendship maintenance and these relationships usually chug along because of their efforts, not mine.  I am super jealous of my mom, who has this ultra-tight group of high school besties that do things together at least once a month.  They are RIDICULOUSLY close – they laugh together, brag about their kids/grandkids together, support each other, and protect each other.  To be fair, all of them are empty-nesters – no hyper toddlers or infants to be found.  BUT, that shouldn't keep me from making time to spend with my friends.  Heck, most of them have kids anyway, and the ones that don't have their own  love my kids like their own , so it shouldn't matter.  Sometimes I think I put friend activities off because I feel like we have to do something BIG and SCHEDULED.  When in reality, just about any time spent together – even if you're just letting your kids blow off steam at the park, or shopping at Wal-Mart – is good time.

6)   I want to lose weight, but I don't want to actually do anything about it.  I hate physical exertion.  I despise sweating.  I abhor taking up precious free time with something I don't love when there are plenty of things I DO love {reading, playing with kids, crafting, vegging on the couch with BD and the TV} that I could be doing instead.  I look at my post-baby body and feel like screaming at it.  So much for the metabolism of my youth, eh?  I know changes won't come unless I make the effort – and I will never be happy with my body again if I don't stop being such a lazy-pants couch potato queen.  Plus I love to eat.  CARBS – BEAUTIFUL CARBS…pasta, bread, cereals, sauces…..Yum.  THAT certainly doesn't help matters either.   

7   I worry constantly about being a good mom.  Am I pushing too hard?  Not hard enough?  Should Mini-Man be able to write his name now?  Should I panic because he hates even attempting to write anything?  Is he eating too much frozen pizza? {What the heck is IN frozen pizza anyway?  That crap can't be good for anyone…}  Am I a bad mom for not letting Sunshine cry-it-out at night?  Am I hindering her development because she can't "self-sooth"?  Will she be scarred forever because I'm not forcing her to drink from a sippy yet?  What will my kids say about me when they grow up and are asked about their childhood?  I could keep going you know….

8   I know BabyDaddy's passwords.  And I snoop his stuff.  Like, a lot.  But to be fair, he knows my passwords too.  And to be even more fair, I'm WAY better than I was a few years ago.  I now refrain from questioning him about every flipping person that sends him a friend request on Facebook.  I honestly just like to get on his FB now and then so I can find trash stay up to date on people that I know but don't have on my friends list. {Riiiiight.}  And I only look at his text messages every other day occasionally.  It sort of helps that BD is a pretty stand-up guy {bless him} and has never once given me anything legitimate to question him about.  :)

9)  

 I  I am scared to death of dying.  No pun intended.  Many of those who are of the evangelical Christian persuasion, of which I am, have the view that one should look forward to death, even long for it {in a purely un-suicidal way – ya'll know what I'm talking about here} so that we can go to heaven to be with our Father.  Do I wanna go to heaven?  Yep!  Do I wanna go like, right now?  Ummmm, not so much.  Sometimes, well, a LOT of times I feel like that makes me a bad Christian.  But I want to be HERE.  On crappy, mangey, dysfunctional, polluted Earth.  I want to be with my kids and my husband and my family.  And I don't want any of them to die either.  I think if my little brother hadn't passed away so young, it wouldn't bother me as much.  "That kind of tragic stuff just happens to other people", the me of before-he-died thought.  Then he died.  Just like that, he was gone.  And it made me realize that just like that it could be any of the people I love.  It could be me.  And then after Grampa died last year {there is no word big enough for how I felt about him—Adored? Loved beyond measure?} it sort of threw me under the bus.  I found myself having nightmares about dying.  About those close to me dying.  It's gotten better – after multiple pep talks and "What Will Be Will Be" speeches from my Momma, but I still have to keep it in check.  If I let myself start thinking about that sort of thing, I'll be a basket case in five shakes of a dog's tail. 

    So, what's the moral of the story?  

        Looking back over everything, I think it's to:

        get the nerve together to find some book club mamas, calm down about finances and realize that money can be a good thing just as easily as a bad thing, set up a play/coffee/gossip session with my girlfriends {and call those that live away from me}, make it a point to do at least one 'domestically necessary' chore a day, start really enjoying my kids while raising them in a healthy, loving home {and knowing that's what counts}, and stop wasting time worrying and live every day with no regrets. 

       {I have absolutely NO intentions of doing anything about the jeans or lurking on BDs Facebook page.  Those are purely for my own personal enjoyment....and a gal's gotta get her kicks somewhere right? }

The Sun Goes Up, the Sun Goes Down...

And once you have spawned a couple offspring, this all happens at, like, Mach 10.

I remember lazy afternoons curled up on the couch with my nose stuck in a book while MY mom worried about dinner, laundry, and bills.  {"Hey, Momma, will you bring me a glass of water please?  And have you washed my blue shirt yet?  And, can I borrow the car?"}  I remember lazy mornings when I would stretch, roll over, squint blearily out the teensy dorm window and decide that Philosophy 204 really wasn't THAT important today.  My goodness, who would want to philosophize at 8 AM anyway?  College classes shouldn't be legally permitted to begin until 9am AT. LEAST.  *Snort*  And then there were lazy evenings spent with my {nose in a book} big toe trailing through the grass under the hammock in my new backyard while BabyDaddy – who wasn't the Daddy of any babies yet, he was just a hot hubby back then—would be charring some burgers or hot dogs on the grill. 

Hours crawled by like sleepy little snails. 

Then……..

{BAM!}  Flash Forward…….

My cell phone vibrates and tinkly tunes of the Grey's Anatomy theme song break the silence.  I hit snooze.  {PleasePleasePlease another five minutes PLEASE.}  *Shuffle Shuffle*Cough *Groan*

I feel a big cold BabyDaddy foot search out my warm ankles and a little cold Mini-Man foot find the warm small of my back. {Yep, we sleep in our little bed like those circus clowns sit in their little car.  Don't hate.}  I'm not very warm anymore…  Then from the peanut gallery {aka the co-sleeper bassinet attached to the bed on my other side}

{Teeny claps from the chubby hands of an alert infant}  *PPPPffffftttt*  Razberries being blown…spit hits my right eye.  I slowly open my left eye to find a fat little sausage finger heading toward my pupil followed quite closely by a gummy, drooly smile.  Her finger hits my tear duct about the same time as her mouth lands on my jaw.  "MMMMMM-BAA!  MMMMM-BAA!"   {Miss Sunshine's kisses.}  I have slobber trails running down my cheeks now.  {If my eyes were open they would be rolling.}  She crawls up to the edge of the bassinet and starts rocking back and forth. 

"Galala, BAA!  PPffft!  OooofooooNa! DA-Da!"  {Translation: "Good morning Mother, delightful day out, isn't it?  Can you be a dear and send Father over here to change my nappy?}    Then she flips around and crawls up to the other side of the co-sleeper and starts pulling things off the nightstand.  Apparently, she considers it a toss-up as to whether my phone, the tv remote, or the framed wedding picture is the tastiest. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Me: Your turn.

BabyDaddy:  *Muffled grunt*

Me: It's your turn.

BabyDaddy: No way.  Too slee….*Snore*

Mini-Man: HellOOOO, I'm tryin' to SLEEP here okay?  Use your quiet voice Mommy……you're too loud.  {BabyDaddy rolls over, then Mini-Man.  They both put the covers over their respective heads.}

Sunshine: BabaDadaGA!  {Sausage fingers in my hair now.}

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I whip off the covers  and lean down over the co-sleeper.  Sunshine's monkey arms immediately wrap themselves around my neck.  MMM-BAA!  {Another wet kiss.} 

And I start my day. 

Change/feed/burp Sunshine.  Wash my slobbery face.  Scrub away yesterday's mascara.  Use a generous amount of concealer--blast you under-eye circles!  Put on clothes.  Put Sunshine in high chair to play with her toys.  Uh-oh.  Sunshine has a dark raincloud face and she bangs her hands angrily on her tray.  I put down the hair dryer and pick her up.  MMMM-BAA!  *Wet burp* {Ominous gurgling sounds from Sunshine's tummy.}  *Retch*  Take off clothes.  Put on new clothes.  Pull covers away from BabyDaddy.  Knee BabyDaddy in the small of his back.  Threaten.  Repeatedly threaten.  Get down in BabyDaddy's face and give fierce ultimatums about the next twenty years of his life.  Poke him in the eye.  Oh, yay!  He's up!  Hand over Sunshine.  *Kiss!  Kiss*  Out the door. 

Work all day – and although I love my job, by 4:30pm my brain is squiggly jello.  {Since I have a desk job BabyDaddy says I should be well-rested by the time I return home.  Riiiiight.}  

Start dinner.  Look at the laundry.  Take work clothes off and add to the pile.  Put on my bleached out t-shirt and yoga pants.  Serve dinner.  Look at the laundry again.  Clear away all things stainable, strip Sunshine to her diaper and feed her.  Look at the laundry.  Laugh at the laundry.  Scrape organic green beans out of my hair.  Make faces at the laundry.  Watch Mini-Man's new ninja moves.  Play a round of Xbox.    Bath/Lotion/Jammies/songs/bottle/bed for Sunshine.  Take a deep breath.  Bath/Jammies/Teeth brushing/bedtime story/prayers/bed for Mini-Man.  Yell at BabyDaddy to come inside darn it!  {He slunk out to the garage sometime between green beans and Jammies.}  Kick the laundry.  Fall on the couch.  *GASP* Remove heavily armed action figures from couch.  Collapse again.  Greedily devour as many pages of whatever book I am reading.  Forget the laundry.      

{Tick-Tock, Eleven O'Clock.}    

My head hits the pillow.  And then, before I think it humanly possible – {SURELY it cannot be possible} –Grey's Anatomy.  *Snooze* 

{REPEAT.}

Dear Muffin Mini-Man,

Hey!  I'm talking to you!  *Ahem*  Look over here please mister.  Yes, put down your lego dudes and come sit by me.  Have I told you how much I love you today?  Because I should say it every minute.  Let me tell you why I love you so.  You are my darling, my sweet  boy, my little wonder.  You are my firstborn – the one who changed my life forever.  I never knew how much fun this wide world was until I had you.  And you get better every day.  You're so BIG now.  You never cease to remind me of that fact.  Your favorite phrase, (besides that whole 'No' thing) is:

"Let's DO this!"

You love to dance.  And you make Daddy and I dance with you. {Which is good for our souls if not more than slightly embarrassing.}  You ask questions, you learn things, you form opinions.

You are a tough little pebble who will not budge once you have made up your mind.  {I think that might have come from Pa--->Nana--->Mommy straight down to you my little tree by the river.}  You SHALL NOT be moved. 

You are hilarious.  Your smile splits your face wide open and makes your eyes twinkle – when you smile, everyone smiles with you.  You love to play tricks.  Our house is peppered with your joyful shouts of, "HA!  Gotcha!" 

You love music, just like me.  We fight with Daddy in the car because we don't want to hear "his ol' country songs".  {We win every time!}  We like the tunes that make you wanna get up and MOVE.  And we do.  We love to car dance even when Daddy says people are looking at us funny in the next lane.  We just laugh – and keep on dancing.  J

You love to read, just like me.  {Are you seeing the pattern here?}  You constantly amaze me, and I love how you challenge yourself without anyone asking you too.  If you find a word you don't know, you sound it out.  If you still don't get it, you corner the nearest person and make them say it for you.  And then you ask, "So, what does that mean?"  And you never forget either.  {I don't know of any other four year olds that can tell you the meaning of the word 'sarcophagus'.  Heck, Daddy can't even SAY that word.  Sorry Daddy.}   

As much as you love everything we have already talked about, you ADORE yourself some electronics.  Laptops, iPods, video games…it never ends.  You had to show your Granny how to use her own iPhone when she first brought it home.  {"MMmm-Kay Granny, now you just swipe your finger right here.  All right, now YOU try it…"}  J  This is where you mesh with your Daddy.  You could sit on the couch and play Xbox with him until your eyeballs liquefied if someone would let you.  I can't tell you how many times I have watched you two and just giggled.  My favorite boys in the world – side-by-side in your underwear, hunched forward with your elbows planted on your kneecaps, controllers in hand, and giving some cartoon bad guy the what-for.   We've been striving to set reasonable limits, which you've gotten pretty good at… Well, we just take it a day at a time, right? 

You have the most sensitive spirit and you wear your heart on your sleeve. {Pity the fool who EVER thinks of breaking it…this momma will be breaking them!}  You love on your little sister like crazy, and you are already super protective of her.  In the car when she gets fussy, you reach over to pat her arm and whisper, {"It's okay.  I'm right here.  See my hand?  I'll never leave you."}  It makes Daddy and me look at each other in that way that always makes you drop your hand and say angrily, "Hey!  What?  What did I say?!"  Tough guy.  J  

You come from good stock little man.  {Yes, on your Daddy's side too.}  J  We are so lucky to have you.  I  am so lucky to have you.  We are peas and a pod, you and I.  I thank the Father everyday for giving you to me and ask that I always be worthy of the blessing that you are.  It's me and you against the world kid.  I am always on your side.  {And don't you forget it.}       

With ALL my heart,

Your Mommy

Honies, I'm home!

It's so very disappointing when people I cyber-stalk in the Land of Blog go AWOL. I mean, what are they doing anyway? Really, don't they know that I need crap to read? that my early-early morning, or early evening, or Sunday afternoon coffee time DEPENDS on their posting stuff for my pleasure? Hmpf.

Oh. Riiight. *blush*

So ya'll haven't forgotten me have you? Hello? Um, anyone? (Knocking on the computer screen.)

Well, I've had a case of the

"Gosh-going-back-to-work-full-time-really-zonks-you-out-after-being-able-to-couch-surf-all-day-lovin-long-snugglin-with-your-new-bebe-and-keeping-up-with-your-minor-hurricane-of-a-preschooler-and-sometimes-doing-useful-things-(other than like reading or Facebooking)-like-laundry-or-dinner-or-dishes-and-this-more-daylight-thing-means-more-time-to-d0-fun-stuff-like-fishing-playing-bike riding-trampoline jumping-creek wading-grass sitting-cookout having-ITIS".

{BREATH}

So here's what you've missed yesterday last week last month (CRAP-okay, a long stinking time ago) in my life:

My mini-man, who just turned four {FOUR! GASP!} and who I can no longer in good conscience refer to as the Muffin - cause he's like big and opinionated and stuff - has been registered for pre-school this fall. *Sniff* *Tear*

Where are my blasted tissues?

He is reading like crazy, which I love {He get it from his Mama}...On the first afternoon BabyDaddy went to investigate the alarming quiet and found him curled up on his bed with his library books, we realized our progeny's little gene pool MIGHT be filled with a few more bookish Mommy DNA curlie-Qs than the huntin/fishin/taxidermyin' rough and tough backwoods chromosomes that are flooding through BD's arteries.

{TOTALLY okay by me -- just FYI.}

The kid also loves to say NO. He ADORES saying "I don't want to" and "Did you hear me?" But, by far, his MOST favorite of all is to climb up on the couch so that he is eye-level with you and say, "I said No! I don't want to! DID YOU HEAR ME?!" Yep, he's a hot one.

Our little Miss Sunshine Happy-Face is now SEVEN months on planet Earth, and we have gushed over her just about as much as we can every milli-second of that time. BabyDaddy has a new girlfriend (and believe you me, he will guard her from boys like a rabid rottweiler), Mini-Man has a captive audience, and I have a dress-me-up babydoll.

{And BOY, do I take advantage of THAT.}

BabyDaddy finds it humorous that I show early symptoms of hyperventilation if we start to leave the house without a properly coordinated hair bow - strapped of course to a durable headband, cause ya'll would know that Miss Thang is just like Mini-Man used to be - slick bald.

{Her fat and ever-so-pinchable cheeks make up for the missing hair .}

She just sprouted what looks to be her first AND second tooth, she eats like a horse, and sleeps most of the time through the night. I could not have CUSTOM DESIGNED a better bebe'. Within the past few days, all heck broke loose as she began to crawl to her mother of course to the XBox controller.

{Please tell me that isn't a foretelling of the future? Please?!!}

She adores her big brother above everyone else, much to his delight/scorn - it really depends on the day - and will do her darndest to get as close as possible to him, including {but not limited to} gnawing on his shins, smacking his face, and drooling in his hair. Usually, Mini-Man responds with detached indifference.

"Um, Mommy, she's slobbering. Again. And it's running down my neck. May I change my shirt please?"

*SIGH*

Life is good ya'll. It really is. And now that I'm 'back in the saddle' as they say, you shouldn't have to wait 4 months for the next post. :)