Weddings and Love

One of my very favorite things to do is write. I wish I got to do it more and I really wish I was able to just shoot off more quick blurbs but I tend to need to be in the element, and have a subject that I want to write about.

I had the absolute HONOR of writing 2 gorgeous couple's engagement and courtship story and it was really, really fun. They were for my brother and my brother-in-law.

This summer my brother Matt will marry his fiance Kelsey, and I am so incredibly thrilled for them. Their story can be found at http://theknot.com/us/fairchildsherman. I also got to write a little something for my brother-in-law Press and his bride-to-be, Brooklyn. You can read their story at http://www.theknot.com/us/brooklyn-scheer-and-press-taylor-jul-2015.

How cute are these couples? I just love love. I feel incredibly lucky that I married a man whose family is of the utmost importance to him. If anything, our issue is that both of our families mean so much to us, we have to work hard to make sure we split time between them evenly. I am the oldest of 5 children and Zac is the oldest of 4, so we have a lot of people to care about!

As to be expected, writing these stories brought me back to the time that I dated my husband and our engagement and early marriage. I kind of think that someone who knows me well would say that when I want something I will probably go after it fairly aggressively. Zac Taylor was no different :) I remember the first time I saw him and as cliche as it sounds I was absolutely floored with not only his handsome face and his nice booty, but also the humble, kind air he had about him. Getting to know him better did not disappoint and only made me more sure of the fact that I needed to get this dude on lock-down.

We only dated a year and were engaged about a year as well, so when we were in the early stages of our marriage, we were still figuring each other out. I giggle to myself thinking back on those early times and our tiny apartment stuffed with so much furniture and crap from Hobby Lobby. I wanted so badly to be the perfect housewife. Since that time, I have learned A LOT.

I am certainly not an expert on marriages, relationships, guys.....really I am not an expert on anything except for maybe strong coffee, boxed wine, and the cheese bin at Trader Joe's. I know a disturbing amount on those 3 subjects and if you need any advice, feel free to contact me. Nevertheless, I always find it interesting to hear different perspectives from people in all stages of marriage - newlyweds, young kids, empty nesters, 60 years. I know I can always learn. Zac and I will be married 7 years in April. Here is where I am ......

Fight kind
In the beginning of our marriage I tested Zac. A LOT. Lawd I was like 27 shades of crazy. I don't know why girls do this but I am guilty. I think I just wanted to make really really sure he wasn't going to run? I blamed it on birth control for a little bit then I got the heck off that crazy stuff. Geez I don't know. But when I look back on that time, I am glad to say I have grown enough to fight more fairly. If something upsets me, I now usually take some time to dwell on it, whether it be a few hours or a day or two, instead of flying off the handle a la 2007. Half the time, whatever it was becomes clearly irrational after that "thinking" time and I am glad I didn't bring it up. The other half, it's still bothering me, but I'm thinking more clearly, and I can present it in a way that's not hurtful, and can help us solve the issue and move forward. My angel of a husband pretty much never has issues to bring up. That drives me koo koo bonkers crazy. But what can I say he's a low-maintenance dude. The way that I can thank him for that is to do my best to meet him in the middle there and tone down my crazy. I didn't say make it disappear, I'm not a magician! But I can work hard to make sure to collect my thoughts before making an issue out of nothing. (For the record, I don't understand, and I will never understand, why men need to go to the bathroom for longer than 3 minutes. I am however smart enough to realize this isn't changing. I will accept this as one of those phenomenons that cannot be explained, like why Britany Spears decided to shave her head that one day.)

Let them enjoy their favorites
All fall, I am mom, dad, caretaker, boo-boo fixer, dinner maker, basketball technique suggester (didn't say they're good suggestions, but I try.) That does mean that when January rolls around and football season is done, I am spent. I look forward to Zac being home, and an extra set of hands so I don't feel like my entire life is devoted to changing sheets and washing sippy cups. I also look forward to watching the Real Housewives in my bed, in my underwear, with a grilled cheese or two, on a random Saturday. Zac lets me do that because he knows that's my happy place. On the same note, even though it can feel like ground hog day, I let him play basketball for hours at the Y every weekend, because that's what makes him happy. Listen marriage is a hot mess of compromise and making sure everybody gets to take equal naps. But if you can make sure each other gets to do their "favorites," it's probably going to go well from there. Oh and I have come a long way on allowing him to do it guilt free too. I think I used to make him feel super duper guilty and I don't' know why but that was probably even worse than just not letting him go. So, I make sure that if he is going to go, that's it, nothing else said. Enjoy.

Save your best for the hubby
Some days, cheese is the glue that holds my life together. This is pretty accurate in the fall. Every day is just a feeble attempt to please all the people in my life. Family, friends, my kids, and sometimes, my hubby comes last. I have worked really hard to make this not happen. At the end of a day of comforting kids, hanging with girlfriends, cooking dinner, etc. etc. I have nothing left to give the hubs. This happens more than I would like to admit. But instead of giving up I try to remember he really doesn't need crazy things. He just needs a gentle female to welcome him home. This is probably old-fashioned but I don't really care because it rings true for me. The biggest thing I have noticed when dealing with all my boys is that they respond to me being GENTLE. Weird concept right? But these are simple, rough creatures, men. All 3 of my guys enjoy their heads being scratched. They enjoy when I speak soft, kind words, encouraging words. They like fresh cookies and they all say something when I am in soft jammies fresh out of the shower ("mom, you smell deeeeelicious!). There is no shame in my old-fashioned game. This works, I promise! Put on a soft shirt, spritz some perfume, go up behind your husband and scratch his head. You're welcome.

Have marriage secrets
If I told you our marriage secrets I would have to kill you so I will spare you on that. And I am not talking about your broccoli farts under the covers while you watch Modern Family. I mean maybe sneaking Chipolte into a movie theater together and laughing hysterically while you take it out of your purse, cough cough. This is something that you both love, and probably wouldn't really be acceptable or socially "normal," but what is normal anyway? These kind of secrets make you giggle when you think about them on a random Thursday at 2, and they make your relationship special because you just did it with that person. Also, your husband might let you buy lots of really pretty designer bags if they're big enough to sneak in lots of food to movie theaters. Don't forget the "wrap" because you're "so cold" to cover up your fast food. Oh and be careful crunching those chips, wait for a loud boom ;)

Don't compare
I have struggled with this in different aspects of my life. Jealously over clothes, where someone lives, the trips they might take. Of course a relationship is no different, and I have envied things other people may seem to have. It doesn't get me anywhere, and all it does is break down the foundation Zac and I have worked very hard to build. I try very hard now to remember that everyone's relationship is different. I try very hard not to covet anything, whether it be material or a way another couple may do things or even parent. I try to remember that I am INSANELY lucky to have 2 beautiful boys and a hunky husband that care about me. I am with a man that helps me grow.....holds my hand.....likes kissin.....and quite frankly, he puts up with all of me. That's enough. We have enough.

To my precious hubby -I am so glad you are the one whom all my memories are with. I loved getting lost in Italy with you. I loved watching you practice in the freezing cold in the Canadian Football League even though I was the only wife in the stands. I loved our first apartment even though we banged our knees every 3 feet because there was too much stuff in it. I loved watching you take a nap after I gave birth to Luke. Having babies wears you out, you sleepy hunk. I am so glad you are the one God chose for me to make babies with. You are the best at giving me dem babies. I would love if God gave us another baby. I know he might not, but I hope he does.

Congratulations to my brother and brother in law on their upcoming marriages. Fight fair, and take naps together. I don't have all the answers but I know it helps to fight like heck to make yours the best darn marriage it can be. I love you to the moon and back Zac.
xo Big Mama

Two year old time bomb

EhrrrmiGod I always want to blog more, but I don't know what happens and the day just melts away. In the early morning hours I have big dreams to check off my entire to-do list from 1-4, mop the floors, write a blog, take a bath and figure out why I cannot get rid of my saddle bags. I truly don't know what ends up happening during these hours but it's a mix of wandering around the house in a daze from eating a lot of cheese, half-heartedly loading the dishwasher, watching the Real Housewives and other nonsense that is amazing, and putting things in my shopping bag online that I pretend to get. It's like ghost retail therapy and it soothes me.

But Lord help me with my current afternoon issue. My 4 year old has completely given up his nap. I guess this is to be expected, kids don't nap until they're 18? But his entire life, he has been an every day, 3-4 hour napper. Of course he went through the typical stages where he would fight it or not nap here and there but he really was the sleeping champ. He does not nap anymore, but I have always said that I still expect him to go in his room and "rest." I believe every kid needs this time that doesn't include Ipads, television, or even talking really. Letting their mind rest is important, and by golly, momma has to have her Real Housewives time or I am gonna lose my marbles.

Which brings me to losing my marbles. So my Brooks used to pretty much obey me and "rest" quietly from about 1-4. I guess in retrospect that was pretty awesome but I just expected it and didn't think much of it. Well now his imagination is running wild at all times and we are entering a little clingy phase, and he comes out about every 7 1/2 minutes with some new excuse, question, or comment. I would be more amused with the insane excuses he comes up with if I weren't so exhausted. Some urgent nap time issues lately include:
1. He is king of the dinosaur village, but he realizes he does not have a queen. He comes in to tell me that he does not want to get married. Um, you're 49 months old. Go to bed.
2. His stomach hurts and he isn't sure if it's because he had 3 hard boiled eggs within 20 minutes or he has to poop. Lawd help me why did I let you eat the eggs, it's both of those issues.
3. He wants to cuddle. So I am a horribly witchy mom if I don't say yes right? Because immediately after I will read about 52 pinterest pins or facebook statuses about appreciating the moment or how in four seconds I will blink and they will be 15 and not want to cuddle with me ever again. Why is this so hard and why do I want to scratch my eyes out?
4. He wants me to know that Pteranodons were actually not dinosaurs but lived in the same time period. He is worried that I didn't know this and needed to make sure that I had this information.

Good. Lord. Being a mom is so. dang. hard. It takes the patience of Jobe. It takes every bit of physical energy I might have after dragging my haggard mom body to pilates. It takes all the kindness I have left in my body so much that when my husband gets home all I have left in me is to pat him on the head and maybe ruffle his hair. I know I should appreciate the moments. They're fleeting, and my kids are sweet, growing little raggamuffins that I miss when I am not with them.

But
But
But

I am so darn tired.

In addition to my no-napping 4 year old, my 2 year old literally wakes up from his nap the crankiest human alive. Seriously, take the crankiest person you have EVER met in your ENTIRE life and times it by about 73. He is spitting nails and the only way to remedy him out of it is to cuddle him in just the right cradling manner while also whispering him promises of mickey mouse clubhouse and as many bananas as he wants. If your octave is too high in your voice or you get out of rythym just slightly he is liable to blow. He is a tiny ticking time bomb. So today he wakes up in his usual grumpy old man mood and as I am coddling him, and my 4 year old mumbles under his breath, "what is he like the Queen of England?" TRUTH. But at the same time I so afraid to mess with this little dragon who is breathing fire.

So as a result of the no-napper and answering questions ever 7-9 minutes during the afternoon hours + the addition of the toddler who wakes up as the devil from his nap, the hours between 3 and 6 feel like about 82 days, roughly. As I wrap up this blog my kids are awake and the cranky one is writhing on the floor, and the 4 year old just told me he is scared of me because my face is shiny.

But it's ok because the 42 minutes until my husband gets home are going to go super quickly! Carry on mommas.
-Big Mama Taylor

Dear Santa

I wish I still believed in Santa. It would give me a reason to snap out of this grumpy as hell very bad mood. I remember when I found out Santa wasn't real. I was on the school bus and these 3 girls were discussing it and I chimed in and said, "I heard the rumors, but I don't think it's true!" As if my enormous bushy eyebrows, braces, acne, and self-cut bangs weren't enough, I had to open my mouth. I am pretty sure I didn't ever have a friend after that moment. I also learned it's better to just agree with whatever the popular girls are saying and follow behind them nodding, smiling and fanning them.

I feel bad for my kids sometimes because my mom made Christmas really special growing up. I would venture to say it is her favorite holiday. She decorated the house, and the days leading up to it were fun and spent with anticipation of whether I would get that American Girl doll bed. Good times. I don't know how she did it because I now realize Christmas coincides with what I like to refer to as "the dark time" in NFL football wife life - December. It is the last few games and I am holding on to my sanity by a thread. One of those threads that you see fraying and you know it only has like 4 little frays left before it snaps and it all comes crumbling down. It would probably sound a smidge dramatic if you didn't know me but for my close friends they are all probably nodding with a sly smile because they have seen me on the verge of a breakdown since about Thanksgiving.

It has been months since I have spent a good amount of time with my husband. When he gets home now the first thing I do is usually smell him for about 10 seconds because I miss him so much. I also want to kill him because he is gone so much, because I am crazy, and a girl. I have been going to doctor appointments, the grocery, the gym, trips and long car rides with my 2 kids alone since mid July. The season starts with a bang of adrenalin which, thank God, catapults me straight through to Halloween. After that things start to get a bit hazy. It's pure survival mode by whatever means necessary. It is for this reason that I decided it would be fun to make a true "wish list" for Christmas. Some are more realistic than others.

1. A full night of sleep.
My kids just turned 4 and 2. So this whole waking up in the middle of the night thing is thankfully not a regular thing, but by golly it still happens. Just last night my 2 year old was up several times. Of course I have no earthly idea why. I think he just gets entertainment out of seeing me stumble into his room. I made the rare mistake last night of bringing him into our bed, which I never do. It's like sleeping with a hot octopus. Kudos to you co-sleeper parents. I wouldn't do it for $1,000 a night. I begin talking to him like an adult after awhile, muttering, move over and stop breathing on me. How is this enormous king-sized bed suddenly 3 inches wide? Has his breath always smelled this terrible? How is he sweating so much? I wish he would stop slapping me. No matter which way I lay he kicks me directly in the uterus. I want this to be over but if we get up to start the day at 4 a.m. I can't promise I won't run away.

2. A date night with a husband who is not working off of 5 months of 3 hours of sleep a night.
I love my husband and the fact that he is even willing to go on date nights during the season when I know he just wants to go home and watch Scandal with a Blue Moon in bed and fall asleep. He is a saint and I love him more every year I am married to him. However, at this point, I know he is getting an average of 3-4 hours of sleep a night and I feel so guilty expecting him to squire me around town that I don't even enjoy it.

3. A play date with Princess Kate. I mean the duchess. I mean Catherine. WHATEVER SHE WANTS TO GO BY - THE NEXT QUEEN OF ENGLAND, WHO I AM OBSESSED WITH.
She's in New York which really just makes this dream seem so possible and real. It's probably best for the Royal Security Team that I do not live in New York, because I can't promise you that I wouldn't look up every detail of their trip and be at every point looking for a lazy security guy to look away. I just know she would like me. We could chit chat about what microwavable macaroni we give the kids for lunch and how she is feeling about having baby number 2. I can also ask her what it's like to be a Princess and she can let me borrow that super fancy black stroller that looks like it's out of the Mary Poppins movie. Maybe she would even let me borrow that nanny she has for baby George. That lady looks so serious about her nanny job. I bet she would let me take a legit nap. Friends share nannies right?

4. A kegerator of boxed wine that never runs out.
The only thing more embarrassing than buying boxed wine is having to go back after a very short amount of time to buy more boxed wine. It would be nice to just have a constant flow in my fridge, kind of like the water and ice maker (which we actually don't have, we rent and our fridge is from 1982, it's a problem.) Come to think of it I would also like a hangover cure. I don't know if it is my mom diet of mac and cheese and smoothies or the fact that I am now 31 and 1/2 but if I even smell wine I have a little headache the next day. If I brush up against the box of wine in the fridge I feel tired. I would really appreciate a little magic pill that allows me to have 2 glasses of wine at 6:30 and not feel like I got run over by an ice cream truck the next day.

5. Jeans that make my muffin top disappear.
There are people somewhere working on this right? Like some sort of team that is put together by the government that is always working towards this goal? What's scary is that I can start to see this whole metabolism dropping as I age thing. In addition to the jeans, I would like to tack on my 19 year old metabolism. I used to eat a dinner in the dining hall and follow it up with a "light snack" of half a pizza and 3 Smirnoff ices at 10 p.m. and I have to say, my bootie back then was great. What happened to my life? I have to eat cucumbers and spinach salads for a week if I want to wear anything but leggings and a huge denim shirt on the weekend.

6. A weekend with my mommy. 
My parents recently moved to Cape Cod and I miss them every day. I was very spoiled living near them for a long time, and I would never have guessed what a momma's girl I am. I miss how she listened to every word I said, even when I was annoying, which I am sure was a lot. I miss shopping with her, venting to her, getting a last-minute dinner together when the guys were working late. But most of all I miss the way she loved on my kids. Nobody spoils our kids better than their grandparents, on both sides, and I am so thankful for them.

May you enjoy a Merry Christmas celebrating Jesus' birth, and if you see Princess Kate, slip her my number.
xoxo Big Mama

Day in the Life

I have all these goals to blog more but quite frankly the only thing that I want to do when my kids finally fall asleep and give me a break is lay in my bed in an enormous t-shirt and underwear and watch 19 Kids and Counting or any version of the Real Housewives franchise. I don't know why this brings me peace but it does and I don't even care if it's embarrassing. I am relaxed and for those 47 minutes, my mind gets to shut off.

The reason I want to blog more is that it makes me feel good. I feel that I am using these neurons in my brain that don't get used when I am with my kids. I feel bad saying that. I know that the job I am doing every minute of every day is the most important one. I also feel very lucky because I do want to be a stay at home mom, and I do want to be with my kids. But Lord have mercy it's hard. I hope to God I am raising decent human beings that will one day contribute to society and marry someone that only thinks I am a little crazy, and the good kind of crazy at that.

So in addition to the fact that my large t-shirt and the Duggars always win out on my "me time," I usually am not quite sure what to blog about. "Just write about your every day life," friends say. Ok. So here was just my morning.....

6 a.m.
Brooks wakes up at some point in the night and moves to sleep in the hallway. There are obviously monsters in his closet, and he likes to do this because then he hears Zac getting ready for work at 5:30 a.m. in our guest bathroom. He gets up and dresses himself and they get to hang for 20 minutes before he has to go to work. He then eats captain crunch and watches Sponge Bob Square Pants by himself until he hears Luke wake up, and comes to get me. If I am lucky he wakes me up by putting 2 tiny fingers on an upper and lower eyelid and slowly raising my eye open while whispering, "mom, you should get up, your babbbbby is awake." This is nice, when the beginning of my day begins with a slow nightmare. When I think about this little man alone in the morning for this time it makes me sad and feel like a bad mom. But I am exhausted and the difference between waking up at 5:55 and 7 a.m. is the difference between me being nice mommy and crazy mommy.

6:59 a.m.
Luke wakes up like clockwork. I think he has a tiny watch in his room and he laughs at the fact that he will never sleep past 7 a.m. I change his diaper which is somehow the weight of 3 small children and I make a mental note to invent better diapers so I can be a millionaire. I kindly ask him not to kick me so hard in the uterus (and only clench my teeth a little while doing so) while I put his clothes on because I may want another child and I would rather the reason I can't have any more not be that my child kicked me in the uterus every day for a whole year. It is absolutely insane how much power a toddler can have when he is laying down and round-house kicking you. It is also crazy how they can suddenly weigh 120 lbs when they go dead weight in a grocery store. These are the mysteries of the world that cannot be explained.

7:03 a.m.
I turn the Keurig coffee machine on and hand Luke one of three or four bananas he will eat throughout the day while researching "can my kid eat too many bananas" as well as "is potassium overload a real thing" on my phone. I look at the clock on the stove and calculate how long it is until I can drop my kids off at the gym for my 2 hours of alone time workout.

7:14 a.m.
I feel guilty that my kids are always watching t.v. in the morning so I suggest we do puzzles and we all lay on the floor and get out a couple. I drink my coffee and we do puzzles and giggle for something like 17 whole minutes. We are all happy and I get the feeling that I am the best mom in the world. At least top 10.

8:30 a.m.
I pace the kitchen debating whether to have a third cup of coffee and have a wave of mom guilt because I suppose at any moment I could be pregnant (I am not) and this kid would definitely be born hooked on jet fuel keurig k cups. I justify the third cup by also making a smoothie that has some nasty green powder made up of seaweed and all kinds of crap from the earth that's supposed to make me skinny, my hair longer and my body release all the toxins inside of it. It costs like $40 at whole foods and I have no idea if it works. Whole Foods is a trendy mom's crack, and every time I go in there I black out and come out with 2 paper bags and spend exactly $130. I put an extra scoop in because I go through boxed wine at an alarming rate and I definitely need to release dem toxins.

8:59 a.m.
I bark at my children to come to the back door and put their shoes on because we are going to the gym to see their best friends. They have best friends there because we literally never miss a day at our gym and a long time ago they realized they better make friends or this will be a real drag. Thank you sweet Baby Jesus for the gym. They have free childcare, kind workers, and I eat a lot of macaroni, so I must run. I wait impatiently at the door for my children who I am pretty sure are in the bathroom eating toothpaste and all of a sudden Brooks sprints around the corner screaming "Mom, your underwear were stuck to my shorts that I want to wear, ahhhhhhhh this is soooooo crazy!!!!" This makes Luke laugh hysterically and even though I know he doesn't get the situation I feel I should probably start putting away some money for the therapy they will inevitably have because my underwear was static clung onto their shorts.

9:15 a.m.
I drop my kids off at the YMCA. I love you so much workers. I have 2 hours, 120 minutes, of pure bliss. I put my time on the sheet 10 minutes later than I actually arrive in case I want to extend my limited alone time for the day, or actually pee without an audience. This is technically a lie, but I am scatterbrained and I only glanced at the clock and "got the short and long time handle mixed up." Silly me. I need that extra 10 minutes like you need oxygen, people. Yesterday Brooks told me I used too much toilet paper while I used the restroom and I could really do without the second-by-second commentary.

9:17 a.m.
I exercise in peace and feel guilty about how I wanted to be alone. My kids aren't that bad! Or do I only feel like that because they are not with me at this very second? I think about all the ways I could be a better mom and promise not to feed them goldfish or McDonalds in the car for lunch. I mentally go through my to-do list and start to panic for a second. I think my heart skips a beat and I have to try hard to not research "heart palpitations in moms" on my phone. I decide to focus my attention on the weird man in leggings who is doing box jumps. I don't think I could jump over a shoe box right now and this man is literally flying through the air all over the gym floor. I consider going over to ask him for whatever drug he is clearly on. Instead I continue moving at minus speed on the elliptical. Even though I had 90 oz of coffee I feel like I am moving my body through mud. If I didn't eat so much cheese I could leave this God foresaken place. I curse you, dairy. Just kidding I love you so much, forget what I said.

11:15 a.m.
I go to pick my kids up at the gym kid care. I am excited to see them, It's really nice. I tell them we are going to the dollar store for the favors for Brooks' birthday party later in the day and you would think I told them we are getting 8 ponies. I then realize how sad our life is. They begin to chant "dollar store," and it's getting louder and people are looking, so I rush them out to the car.

11:33 a.m.
I arrive to the dollar store and as usual, I have to go to the bathroom so bad I don't think I could even count to 10. This is the problem with my mom bladder. I either never have to use the restroom again in my life, or I am currently peeing my pants. I tell Brooks and Luke that I have to go to the bathroom extremely urgently and Brooks rolls his eyes and says to Luke "here we go again." I choose to ignore the comments and pull my children's arms out of their sockets across the parking lot so that I get to the bathroom in time.

11:42 a.m.
Meltdown in the Dollar Store while I try to pick out party favors. My son needs the birthday card that says "Happy 40th" or he will literally lose his mind. One lady pats me on the back and says "it gets better, but not for about 10 years." I consider sitting down and crying but I have to buck up because nap time is soon and there is a chance I will get to bang my head against the wall alone. I go into survival mode and let the boys each pick out some food from a shady aisle that somehow has 30 brands of chips, but none I have ever heard of. Where are these made and packaged, I wonder? The expiration is shockingly far away and my kids are eating flaming hot Cheetos and canned mandarin oranges in the cart. People have begun to stare and whisper but I am so close to done. I start throwing baby wipes at them and head for the checkout.

12:43 p.m.
My voice is raising and the boys can sense the tension. I have already changed into my large t-shirt and they know the drill and begin to retreat closer to their rooms.

Maybe I will write about my afternoon tomorrow. If I don't, you can bet your mama's heirlooms that I am watching some Housewives in a large t-shirt.
xoxo Big Mama

Struggles on the Mom Job

As a mom of two toddlers whose husband works a lot of hours in the fall, my issues always seem magnified during football season because I am alone so much more. My job is to keep us alive and entirely run the household from July 23 until post-season, and sometimes it ain't easy. Here are my job problems.......

1. Trying to get a ladies night organized
The level of difficulty on getting several moms to be able to go to Chili's for a meal and 2 glasses of wine is so astronomically high it's actually quite unbelievable you ever see mom's out at the same place at the same time, sans children. Anytime you see a group of moms from this moment forward, I suggest you go over to the table, whisper to them, I am thankful for this small miracle you organized, and buy them a vat of chardonnay. This is kind of like the desperate moms version of the Starbucks pay it forward thing that's happening right now. Since late July through January means I am completely without the luxury of having my husband actually watch the kiddos, the first challenge lies in all the ladies getting a sitter. Thank God we have the most amazing babysitters on the planet who I want to hug one million times every time I see them (and sometimes I do). Once I secure a warm body to watch my children get a babysitter, we all agree on a meeting time and a place, and I force my love handles into jeans that don't fit me but I refuse to get rid of. It's at this time that I can almost guarantee one of my children will decide to either puke or blow a wad of snot. It is typically 3-7 minutes before "D-Day," i.e., sitter arrival, also known as the moment I sprint out of the door and peel out of the driveway like a bank robbery scene. I think they huddle up while I am getting dressed and decide which one will do it. I never see it coming and it is often disguised as a hug coming at me, only to be met with bodily fluids at the last second. At this point the one top in my closet that didn't make me want to get into the fetal position in my closet and cry is ruined. I have literally wiped snot out of my hair, re-blow-dried it, and walked out of the house, all in a very reasonable amount of time. That is why moms are the closest thing to superheros in the whole world. That is also why we all text each other that the first mom there needs to have glasses of wine waiting for the other arrivals at the restaurant. This is called ninja ordering. It can also be referred to as "being the best kind of friend you can be."

2. Trying not to eat 9.872 calories during the afternoon
Most of the time during my kids nap I have a mile-long to do list I am trying to chisel away at. It is always super fun and can include anything from getting caught up on the bills to laundry to spending 17 minutes getting 45 stickers off the kitchen table. During this time I also somehow turn into the hungriest hamster on the planet and lose all self control I ever had. I typically pace the kitchen for a few minutes knowing I should cut up the huge carrots in the fridge and end up settling on 3 enormous bites of cheese from a 1 lb block along with the rest of my kids' macaroni and half a pop tart. I don't sit down for any of it unless maybe I plop in the smack middle of the kitchen floor to finish off the pop tart. I have no idea how this happens and it typically happens in a span of 22 seconds as well. I then spend the rest of the day berating myself that I am absolutely unable to resist dairy and figuring out what workout classes I will have to do at the Y the next day to reverse the damage.

3. Grocery shopping has become my Olympic sport
"Where do you grocery shop" It's a questions moms exchange often. Walk past a group of moms chatting at the gym or the park and you're likely to hear them discussing the buy-one-get-one deals at the store or the super-cheap diapers in the clearance section that have been marked down because they were manufactured wrong. At half the price, we don't care if the latch for the right side of the diapers is completely lopsided. Oh, the filling in these diapers might give my whole family a rash? Well we are risk takers and they are 17 cents off so I am gonna wing it. We are hungry for a deal and we will drive all over town (using gas which makes the deal no longer a deal) looking for it, darn it!

So since I don't have monthly goals and meetings like a typical office manager might, grocery shopping and deals are my sport. I have a couple bones to pick with you though, grocery stores of America. Why can you only buy paper towels in quantities of 1 or 100? And why do paper towels suddenly seem like the most ginormous thing I have ever seen when I have 2 kids in the cart and one is alternating eating cookies and throwing them at other customers and the other is hanging off the back of the cart like a surfboard. It's at this moment that I would like just 4 paper towel rolls please, not 1, because it'll be gone by dinner, and not 100, because holding them on top of my head so my kids can fit in the cart is sort of embarrassing.

4. Hugging my kids enough
When you're the only parent your kid sees for several days at a time, it's natural to worry if you hugged them enough. It's not like he's getting 10 other hugs from dad, so I often times go to bed wondering if I squeezed them enough and kissed them as many times as I could have. But ya know what? As a mom, sometimes I just do not want to be touched. And by sometimes I mean that it would be kind of nice to not be touched until Christmas. Can I ask for that for Christmas? At a normal job, it's actually probably prohibited to touch your coworkers, and written into many handbooks. There is a reason for this. At my job, I get touched to be woken up (usually my almost 4 year old comes into the room and heavily breathes for about 20 seconds, then lifts my eyelids open and tells me he is worried that we haven't found all the dinosaur teeth that are buried in the world. I need a coffee pot in my bedroom). 2 minutes later I have 4 yogurt covered hands all over my body. I don't know how but somehow a 2 ounce yogurt is suddenly covering the only clean workout clothes I have and I put back on the clothes from yesterday that haven't been washed. I can't remember the last time I was at a kitchen sink doing dishes and there wasn't someone pulling on my feet. Why do they seem like they weigh 450 pounds at that moment? It's like 8 kettle bells are pulling me down to the ground while I rinse out an egg pan. My kids latest thing is if I am low enough to the ground they love to touch my face. I HATE TO HAVE MY FACE TOUCHED. Good thing I love you you little gremlins. Their clammy little hands stroke my cheeks building up break outs and all I can think is, well they're probably not being hugged enough. Dear mom guilt, go away because I don't like you. xo Sarah

5. Getting the kids to go to bed
Obviously this is the most important part of my life. There is no more important block of time in my current existence than the 2 times of day I try to get 2 human beings to fall asleep. You need the sleep, I need the sleep, go to freaking sleep. This fall I have been a little more relaxed about bedtime and it has been a little easier since we have been so busy. But nap time remains the struggle of the century and at 1:00 in my house there is a hostage situation going on with the stress level of nuclear war. We are almost always coming home from a busy morning and my entire physical being is geared towards getting their sweaty little hands stroking my nose into their beds. It is at this time that they get a huge burst of energy and can be seen running around the house banging their heads on the wall. Suddenly they seem so heavy and my body is weak from climbing the tiny stairs at the park 987 times. My legs are giving out and I even have a cramp in my bones but I must go on because I am so close to my huge bites of cheese in the kitchen followed by folding laundry while nobody touches me. I make deals with little people in these moments I always regret. Ice cream at McDonald's, trips to the Dollar store, yes you can have a fruit snack before dinner, I DON'T CARE, just close your eyes so I can go scarf my cheese.

It's week 7 of the NFL season, so by calculations I have about 9+ weeks left to figure out how to get my kids to walk in the door and put themselves to bed, and for Target to sell me paper towels in quantities of 2. I will keep you posted.
xoxo Big Mama