This past weekend I got to go to Chicago for a girls trip to hang with my sister and celebrate my sweet friend Jenni as she is set to get married in 3 weeks. It was a fabulous girls weekend with brunches, bloody mary bars, wine on patios of Chicago condos, and a little shopping. Pretty much the stuff dreams are made of when you are a stay at home mom, considering my idea of excitement is going to Wal-Mart alone to peruse the clearance section.
The weekend also reminded me that I am NOT 21 anymore. Heck I'm not even 25 anymore. I'm old, I am exhausted, and I need 8 hours of sleep.
Getting old creeps up on you. It all starts with a night post-college, you don't see it coming- you have a casual 2 glasses of wine while watching the Real Housewives marathon and wake up with a twinge of a headache, craving a bagel the size of Manhattan. "What is going on here?" You ponder to yourself. I used to be able to have 2 glasses of wine just while I was applying my blush in college. And that wine was Franzia, and now I'm drinking expensive, classy bottles, like Yellow Tail. Then it hits you. You're just old. You really can't have more than one glass of wine without feeling like you got run over by a semi trailer and wanting to take a mid-morning nap by 9 a.m. Things have changed, lady. You're getting up at 6 a.m. with a toddler who thinks it's fun to attempt to swing from the chandelier all before 6:17 a.m.
Why do children wake up with such boundless energy? I don't feel like talking to any human before 9 a.m., and my 3 year old bounds out of bed with plans on how to change the world.
Me: "Brooks, do you want yogurt or cereal for breakfast?"
Brooks: "Mom I would like the vanilla yogurt with the picture of the baby on it because it reminds me of when Luke was a baby and he was sooo cute and cuddly and that makes me happy and feel fuzzy inside and also can we go to the park and the dollar store and the museum today so I can learn about numbers please thank you so much I love you and I love zebras."
Me: Blank stare as I overpour milk into my coffee.
Because of said children, I actually feel like so many years of sleep deprivation have accumulated on my body that at this point I'm feeling like I won't catch up until I'm in my 50s, at which point I'm sure I'll be having burning hot flashes and not be able to nap. Fabulous.
Last New Year's Eve, my husband and I spent the joyous event partying hard. NOT! We were snuggled cozy in our bed, old people pajamas on, watching a concert on TV. The ensuing comments just proved how old we had gotten.
"I mean how much money is spent on just the background of that stage?"
"I would be so tired if I had to stand up this whole concert is that area standing room only?"
"Did this concert not even start until 9 pm? I would not make it."
That's when we realized we were an old couple. And we didn't even care. Things started to take an interesting turn from there. We began to divy up weekends where we might be able to sleep in until 8 a.m. like we were talking about war strategies. We began to eat frozen pizzas in bed, splitting them down the middle without a care in the world, and stuffing our faces while we watched marathons of Breaking Bad on Netflix. There hasn't been a second in the world during our marriage I haven't wanted to make out with my husband, and these frozen pizza sessions didn't even change that. To my surprise, you can actually cuddle and pig out at the same time. It just takes dedication. We had just accepted that we were in our THIRTIES (that once forbidden, scary word), and the scariest part is, we liked it. Our date nights turned into sneaking in a bowl from Chipolte to the movie theater, so we could pig out more in public. We quickly realized the crunch of the chips was going to out us, so unfortunately, that was a one-time thing.
So here I stand, 31, with a beaten-down metabolism, but an appetite that won't stop. It's an interesting phase in my life because I know for a fact that I will mutter at my 40th birthday party (likely a frozen pizza eating session with a $15 bottle of wine), gosh, I would give anything to be 30. So I guess I should enjoy the moment, and my crazy 3 year old who never stops talking, and my crazier 20 month old who only has 5 words and gets by on grunts and smiles.
Let me just make one thing clear about this aging process - I sure as heck hope they have a solution for me to be able to eat donuts all day and still be skinny by the time I am 40. There's a science lab working on this specific endeavor somewhere, right? I think maybe we need to pull a few people off of the border control crisis and make sure we are covered on donuts that burn calories. Priorities, people.
It's hard to get old but the good thing about coming back from Chicago was I have never been more excited to see my family. I am now realizing that I have my own little crew, and they're waiting on me to get home, squealing with delight when I walk in the door. Maybe this whole aging thing isn't so bad. If I could just get a calorie-free donut and a good nap......
Big Mama Taylor Blog
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Friday, May 2, 2014
Mother's Day
If you're a male and you read this blog, I'm sorry! There is a lot of information that's probably way too unfiltered! As a "thank you" to you for reading, I'm going to write this post on Mother's Day suggestions for gifts. You're welcome! If you don't already know, you need to send your mom a card and call her. You also need to send your Mother In Law a card, or at least a text. Finally, your wife is a mom too, and if you forget, you will probably spend anywhere from 3-7 days in the dog house. I know she's your wife but she's your kids' mom and she expects a present. and a text. and a card. and a hug. but not a hug that turns into more. unless it's her choice. whew. Ok glad we are good there.
Here are some suggestions for presents. Some are your obvious, buy on the internet, nice gifts, and some are ones that you might not have known about if it weren't for your unfiltered friend, Big Mama Taylor.
1. Monogrammed C. Wonder Tote
I saw a quote once and it said "If it ain't monogrammed you don't own it." Quite frankly if monogramming were free I would monogram EVERYTHING under the sun. There aren't many options to dress boys cute past smocking, which I have learned doesn't last too long after two, so I monogrammed a lot of Brooks' clothes until I got pregnant with the second and realized none of those precious items would get passed down. Sorry, second kid, you are monogrammed a lot less.
I love monogrammed stuff and it's really catching on in the trends and now pretty major retailers have lots of cute regular every day stuff you can monogram, like this cute tote from C. Wonder. It's perfect for running errands and to the gym. It's the perfect size to lose all my stuff and somehow after a week hold everything from a plastic lizard to my car keys to a dirty diaper.
2. Time with her girlfriends
Consider setting up a girls night out for your beautiful wife. Sure we have them on our own once-in-a-blue-moon, but we feel incredibly guilty, and by the time we have figured out plans for child care, made sure everyone is fed, bathed and happy, gotten dressed in real live clothes, and put on 3 swipes of make up, quite frankly we are so tired we are thinking we might as well take a bath and go to bed. So text her best gals and set it up for her
The thing that happens when we don't get out with our girls is we start to lose our social skills. Answering crazy toddler questions and telling our one year old to stop eating ants does not count as "talking." Our brain literally fries during the day and when we are allowed to get out of the house, especially stress free, this magical thing happens where we get so happy we might even come home and make out with you. This fabulous Latin lady I see every single day at the YMCA leaned in to kiss me on the cheek and I was so flustered I ended up kissing her on the lips. Yes folks, a full on kiss on the lips. This was almost 2 years ago and I am still not recovered. What happened was I moved to Florida and didn't go out for so long that I was flustered altogether by human interaction. We had started to become friendly and say hi to each other and I had noticed that she and all her fabulous latin friends would hug and be affectionate with each other. I don't know if it was the lack of friends or me missing Texas but I wanted in on their huggy circle. So one day she calls me over to the wolf pack of them lifting with each other (turns out she wanted to ask me if I was pregnant, I was 10 weeks and looked about 32 weeks along). When I get over there she leans over to put her weights down, and I thought she was going for the side kiss like she did with all her gal pals. Nope, she wasn't, and I somehow ended up kissing her side mouth. Let's just say I was never invited into that wolf pack. Moral of the story: Plan your wife a girls night so she doesn't accidentally side mouth kiss people at the YMCA.
3. Letter Necklace
The only thing better than monogramming stuff with our own initials is wearing our people's monogram. This is a great gift if you have kids, or you're newly married, in my opinion. If you're newly married getting the letter of her new last name is fun. If you have kids, get their initials and she can combine them on one necklace. Jewels always wins.
4. Alone time
Listen, we love you, dear husband, but we don't get the alone time you get. Every time you're on the potty alone, I want you to think of us, and how we can't even say restroom anymore, just potty. It's like it's embroiled on my brain. I could be talking to David Beckham and I would say potty. I can't not say potty. Anywho, think of us, when you're alone, and know that we are never, ever alone, not even on the potty. I cannot even tinkle without Brooks asking me if I have a "really bad rash?" He had a rash one time, like 2 years ago, and for some reason he now thinks I have a really bad rash. Every day. So you know what a good gift is? Coming home, and giving us really cute pajama pants, and shoving us into the bedroom with a bag of dove chocolates, a hot bath, and something horribly trashy to watch on tv. Give us a date with our sanity. Below are some cute pajama pants that I wouldn't mind being gifted, as long as they came with said alone time, chocolates, bath and good recorded shows.
Side Note: If you are reading, and you are rich, well first of all, give me some money. But seriously, if you have the money, in addition to alone time, send your gal pal to a spa. There is literally nothing better than someone doing something so ridiculously spoiled and luxurious as sitting in a robe and getting pampered. I personally need a completely new eyebrow shape and have since 2001 but I just haven't had the chance to conquer this beast. And yes, stuff like that really stresses me out.
5. This Mug. Also go ahead and get wine. Lots of wine. A mom is like a fine automobile and a fine automobile runs on coffee, and wine.
6. Weekend Travel Bag
Again, monogram the crud out of anything you get for your girl. She will probably want to divorce you a lot less when you mess up because she has so much monogrammed cute stuff. Winning! This is a great little weekend travel bag that should never be filled with diapers, wipes and hand sanitizer. It should only be filled with fedoras, swimsuits and boxed wine, the classy stuff that weekend getaways are made of. Link and picture below.
In summary, get your mom, mother-in-law, and mom of your kids a gift. Heck, you might want to get any mom you know a gift. Be sure to just walk around that day saying to any woman you see "you are a blessing and so are your ovaries." And remember, this is the reaction you will get for kisses if you do not give this lady something monogrammed or alone for Mother's Day. You heard it here first.
Here are some suggestions for presents. Some are your obvious, buy on the internet, nice gifts, and some are ones that you might not have known about if it weren't for your unfiltered friend, Big Mama Taylor.
1. Monogrammed C. Wonder Tote
I saw a quote once and it said "If it ain't monogrammed you don't own it." Quite frankly if monogramming were free I would monogram EVERYTHING under the sun. There aren't many options to dress boys cute past smocking, which I have learned doesn't last too long after two, so I monogrammed a lot of Brooks' clothes until I got pregnant with the second and realized none of those precious items would get passed down. Sorry, second kid, you are monogrammed a lot less.
I love monogrammed stuff and it's really catching on in the trends and now pretty major retailers have lots of cute regular every day stuff you can monogram, like this cute tote from C. Wonder. It's perfect for running errands and to the gym. It's the perfect size to lose all my stuff and somehow after a week hold everything from a plastic lizard to my car keys to a dirty diaper.
2. Time with her girlfriends
Consider setting up a girls night out for your beautiful wife. Sure we have them on our own once-in-a-blue-moon, but we feel incredibly guilty, and by the time we have figured out plans for child care, made sure everyone is fed, bathed and happy, gotten dressed in real live clothes, and put on 3 swipes of make up, quite frankly we are so tired we are thinking we might as well take a bath and go to bed. So text her best gals and set it up for her
The thing that happens when we don't get out with our girls is we start to lose our social skills. Answering crazy toddler questions and telling our one year old to stop eating ants does not count as "talking." Our brain literally fries during the day and when we are allowed to get out of the house, especially stress free, this magical thing happens where we get so happy we might even come home and make out with you. This fabulous Latin lady I see every single day at the YMCA leaned in to kiss me on the cheek and I was so flustered I ended up kissing her on the lips. Yes folks, a full on kiss on the lips. This was almost 2 years ago and I am still not recovered. What happened was I moved to Florida and didn't go out for so long that I was flustered altogether by human interaction. We had started to become friendly and say hi to each other and I had noticed that she and all her fabulous latin friends would hug and be affectionate with each other. I don't know if it was the lack of friends or me missing Texas but I wanted in on their huggy circle. So one day she calls me over to the wolf pack of them lifting with each other (turns out she wanted to ask me if I was pregnant, I was 10 weeks and looked about 32 weeks along). When I get over there she leans over to put her weights down, and I thought she was going for the side kiss like she did with all her gal pals. Nope, she wasn't, and I somehow ended up kissing her side mouth. Let's just say I was never invited into that wolf pack. Moral of the story: Plan your wife a girls night so she doesn't accidentally side mouth kiss people at the YMCA.
3. Letter Necklace
The only thing better than monogramming stuff with our own initials is wearing our people's monogram. This is a great gift if you have kids, or you're newly married, in my opinion. If you're newly married getting the letter of her new last name is fun. If you have kids, get their initials and she can combine them on one necklace. Jewels always wins.
Listen, we love you, dear husband, but we don't get the alone time you get. Every time you're on the potty alone, I want you to think of us, and how we can't even say restroom anymore, just potty. It's like it's embroiled on my brain. I could be talking to David Beckham and I would say potty. I can't not say potty. Anywho, think of us, when you're alone, and know that we are never, ever alone, not even on the potty. I cannot even tinkle without Brooks asking me if I have a "really bad rash?" He had a rash one time, like 2 years ago, and for some reason he now thinks I have a really bad rash. Every day. So you know what a good gift is? Coming home, and giving us really cute pajama pants, and shoving us into the bedroom with a bag of dove chocolates, a hot bath, and something horribly trashy to watch on tv. Give us a date with our sanity. Below are some cute pajama pants that I wouldn't mind being gifted, as long as they came with said alone time, chocolates, bath and good recorded shows.
Side Note: If you are reading, and you are rich, well first of all, give me some money. But seriously, if you have the money, in addition to alone time, send your gal pal to a spa. There is literally nothing better than someone doing something so ridiculously spoiled and luxurious as sitting in a robe and getting pampered. I personally need a completely new eyebrow shape and have since 2001 but I just haven't had the chance to conquer this beast. And yes, stuff like that really stresses me out.
5. This Mug. Also go ahead and get wine. Lots of wine. A mom is like a fine automobile and a fine automobile runs on coffee, and wine.
6. Weekend Travel Bag
Again, monogram the crud out of anything you get for your girl. She will probably want to divorce you a lot less when you mess up because she has so much monogrammed cute stuff. Winning! This is a great little weekend travel bag that should never be filled with diapers, wipes and hand sanitizer. It should only be filled with fedoras, swimsuits and boxed wine, the classy stuff that weekend getaways are made of. Link and picture below.
In summary, get your mom, mother-in-law, and mom of your kids a gift. Heck, you might want to get any mom you know a gift. Be sure to just walk around that day saying to any woman you see "you are a blessing and so are your ovaries." And remember, this is the reaction you will get for kisses if you do not give this lady something monogrammed or alone for Mother's Day. You heard it here first.
Monday, April 28, 2014
Baby Brain
Since my little boy Luke turned one, I have been thinking about when we would have our next kid. Not necessarily in an I-can't-wait kind of way, more in a will-we-and-when-will-we. I would say I'm sort of a planner, so it's easy to let my mind wander and think about the day we will have 3 and what would work out best for our family. We have had our 2 kids at the end of football season and it actually worked out wonderfully, but I could have very well given birth to either of them during a fourth-quarter scoring drive, alone. Brooks came at 5 in the morning the day after the football season ended, and Luke came the morning Zac left for a 48 hour trip to Buffalo for an away game. I also had them both within about 45 minutes of arriving at the hospital, so I'm lucky my husband was with me for both as well. I want to have the next one at home but I haven't gotten the Mister on board with that one just yet.
So, if we are lucky enough to have another, a springtime baby would be kinda nice. In these dreams, however, I either forget that I actually have to go through the 10 months of grueling pregnancy, or I look like Angelina Jolie pregnant in them. Let's get one thing straight: I never looked like Angelina Jolie, pregnant, not pregnant, sleeping, anytime. The second I am pregnant, my body swells like the Michellin man and I remain that way for the entire time. I get fat face just thinking about being pregnant. I actually feel my ankles swell a little when I'm even in the presence of pregnant people. And as puffy as I'll be, and as crazy as our 2 current kids make me, I am up for more kids. I guess that makes me actually, literally, crazy. And since my husband took me on a fabulous trip to Italy we actually have a binding contract, made with words, over wine, that I shall bear (bare? my brain is being fried by my children) him another child.
I'm just upset that there aren't more options out there for this whole "how to have a third kid" thing. I mean let's be serious, when you go to the grocery, you can pay with your credit card, pay with debit, write a check, use cash, get cash back....but if I want another baby, I'm either going to have to adopt or just grow the thing myself. This just doesn't seem very fair, and I'll tell you why. I don't want to. I would like for this next child to just show up on my doorstep, say next May? Tuesdays are good for me.
I want to state one thing before I go any further and that is that I'm very aware that I have been lucky enough to have the 2 crazy children I do have, and that God made this world and made women to carry the babies. It's a miracle, it's beautiful, and yes of course I cry every time someone posts one of those videos where the lady gives birth in the tub and the baby comes out and there's Enya playing and the dad is crying and gosh, ya it's beautiful. It's bananas that women can just grow a child. Like, one day you are kissing your husband and then BAM, 10 months later you have a human being that could look exactly like you.
But you know what those precious videos don't usually show? Any of those 10 months, 40 weeks, 280 days of suffering. The ones where you have to pull on your black compression socks from Wal-Mart, and sleep in them, and nothing else, because your body is swelling quite frankly from the toes up, but you sweat through all your clothes at night. So you're reduced to this sweating mass of a person, carrying another person, sleeping with the blanket over just one leg, because you're somehow hot, cold, sweaty and shivering all at the same time. Ya. The little videos never seem to show that part.
Just once I want someone to post a video where they are muttering curse words into the camera on the first day of the 3rd trimester. If it's anyone like me, they have already gained 30 pounds at this point and know that from this point out they are pretty much staring down the barrel of 2 lbs a week weight gain for the next 12 weeks. I will consider making a video like this myself but then I can really guarantee there will not be anymore children. Because after having recorded video footage of myself waddle after my kids at the park and plopping my sausage feet up on pillows at the end of the day, that will be it for me.
Can you tell I'm just dying to get preggo? I guess the moral of this TMI story is that it just doesn't seem fair. Over the weekend, my absolutely adorable hubby and I had this discussion about how it seems like he's always gets a break. Well that obviously isn't entirely true. He gets up around 5, goes to cross fit on the way to work, has to arrive by 7 for meetings, sometimes earlier, and on the days he is able to get home at 5:45, which is only a few months in the spring, he comes in the door in a great mood and helps me until the last second those little people go to bed. I can't really say that I could ask him to do anything he isn't doing, I just think guys don't always realize the little pockets of luckiness they have throughout the day - that nice bathroom break you got to do alone, without someone hanging on your foot, with a snot bubble coming out of their nose. You got to brush your teeth without someone pulling down your pajama shorts. That time you ate lunch, and there wasn't someone throwing rice and beans at you during your lunch, was that nice? Maybe you even got an adult conversation at lunch, and didn't have to discuss with your 3 year old why there is sometimes corn in his poop. And then have another conversation about how it's really not appropriate to conversate about your poop. LORD DELIVER ME.
Guys just seem to have it lucky in that whole, being alone a lot of the day way. And in that whole, THEY DON'T HAVE TO CARRY THE CHILD WAY. Can I just say, to this day I still don't understand why we don't alternate pregnancies. I guess we would have to sit down and figure out an exit plan for the little person, but beyond that, it seems like it should be an every other thing, AMIRIGHT?
I would like my husband to come home from the hospital and spend 20 minutes looking in the mirror at his postpartum body, and then cry in the corner for 1 hour until his boobs are so full of milk he has to nurse the baby. Actually, I don't really want him to do this, thinking of him doing this whole scenario just made me feel really weird, but it would be nice if he could know how this actually feels. Because when I'm 4 months postpartum and still feel like a doughy blow fish, it really doesn't help when he tells me that the weight will still come off. UMMMM It is off you jerk, it has just displaced itself in very different areas on my body and I look like a stretched out version of my former self. The correct answer was "you have never looked so hot! I got nervous because I thought Heidi Klum broke into our house to use our mirror." I'm going to go take a bath and sob now, because you didn't say the Heidi Klum thing, thankssomuch.
I also feel a little guilty that for this kid, there isn't that excitement that there was before. The first pregnancy is of course, over-the-top, beaming, rainbows and butterflies. YES! We can procreate! We did it! You're stuff works, my stuff works, BOOM, we are doing this thing. The second pregnancy was exciting in a different way - we are giving you a sibling! You're going to have so much fun together! This time around I almost just feel irresponsible - are we really equipped for this? Some days I can barely get the 2 I have dressed and fed. There was a day a couple weeks ago that I'm pretty sure all they ate was a ton of cereal and mandarin oranges. There isn't a spare minute in the day so where is this new baby gonna fit? I feel like if my kids were behaving their typical crazy way at the grocery store and I was also pregnant people would just walk by me and shake their heads. If there were thought bubbles over their heads, they would say, "that lady should probably stop procreating and handle those ones."
If I'm forced to think of some positives I guess I do look forward to the day I eat 6 krispy kreme donuts in one sitting and don't really feel any guilt. Sure, there's a chance that 2 lb kid in there is going to have a killer sugar crash in a few hours but I'll be napping when that happens. There will be lots of chocolate eaten in my bed, and in the bath. You really haven't lived until you have eaten half a bag of caramel doves in the bath tub. That will happen, and it will be fun. So there you have it. The good the bad and the ugly about our preparations and my TMI thoughts to have more children. Thank you Jesus for the ones you have given me, and I pray you bless us with one when the time is right. And if you decide that dropping it in a moses basket like a stork next May is best, then I'm all for that plan.
Question for you to ponder:
If you had to lose your taste or your hearing, which would it be?
So, if we are lucky enough to have another, a springtime baby would be kinda nice. In these dreams, however, I either forget that I actually have to go through the 10 months of grueling pregnancy, or I look like Angelina Jolie pregnant in them. Let's get one thing straight: I never looked like Angelina Jolie, pregnant, not pregnant, sleeping, anytime. The second I am pregnant, my body swells like the Michellin man and I remain that way for the entire time. I get fat face just thinking about being pregnant. I actually feel my ankles swell a little when I'm even in the presence of pregnant people. And as puffy as I'll be, and as crazy as our 2 current kids make me, I am up for more kids. I guess that makes me actually, literally, crazy. And since my husband took me on a fabulous trip to Italy we actually have a binding contract, made with words, over wine, that I shall bear (bare? my brain is being fried by my children) him another child.
I'm just upset that there aren't more options out there for this whole "how to have a third kid" thing. I mean let's be serious, when you go to the grocery, you can pay with your credit card, pay with debit, write a check, use cash, get cash back....but if I want another baby, I'm either going to have to adopt or just grow the thing myself. This just doesn't seem very fair, and I'll tell you why. I don't want to. I would like for this next child to just show up on my doorstep, say next May? Tuesdays are good for me.
I want to state one thing before I go any further and that is that I'm very aware that I have been lucky enough to have the 2 crazy children I do have, and that God made this world and made women to carry the babies. It's a miracle, it's beautiful, and yes of course I cry every time someone posts one of those videos where the lady gives birth in the tub and the baby comes out and there's Enya playing and the dad is crying and gosh, ya it's beautiful. It's bananas that women can just grow a child. Like, one day you are kissing your husband and then BAM, 10 months later you have a human being that could look exactly like you.
But you know what those precious videos don't usually show? Any of those 10 months, 40 weeks, 280 days of suffering. The ones where you have to pull on your black compression socks from Wal-Mart, and sleep in them, and nothing else, because your body is swelling quite frankly from the toes up, but you sweat through all your clothes at night. So you're reduced to this sweating mass of a person, carrying another person, sleeping with the blanket over just one leg, because you're somehow hot, cold, sweaty and shivering all at the same time. Ya. The little videos never seem to show that part.
Just once I want someone to post a video where they are muttering curse words into the camera on the first day of the 3rd trimester. If it's anyone like me, they have already gained 30 pounds at this point and know that from this point out they are pretty much staring down the barrel of 2 lbs a week weight gain for the next 12 weeks. I will consider making a video like this myself but then I can really guarantee there will not be anymore children. Because after having recorded video footage of myself waddle after my kids at the park and plopping my sausage feet up on pillows at the end of the day, that will be it for me.
Can you tell I'm just dying to get preggo? I guess the moral of this TMI story is that it just doesn't seem fair. Over the weekend, my absolutely adorable hubby and I had this discussion about how it seems like he's always gets a break. Well that obviously isn't entirely true. He gets up around 5, goes to cross fit on the way to work, has to arrive by 7 for meetings, sometimes earlier, and on the days he is able to get home at 5:45, which is only a few months in the spring, he comes in the door in a great mood and helps me until the last second those little people go to bed. I can't really say that I could ask him to do anything he isn't doing, I just think guys don't always realize the little pockets of luckiness they have throughout the day - that nice bathroom break you got to do alone, without someone hanging on your foot, with a snot bubble coming out of their nose. You got to brush your teeth without someone pulling down your pajama shorts. That time you ate lunch, and there wasn't someone throwing rice and beans at you during your lunch, was that nice? Maybe you even got an adult conversation at lunch, and didn't have to discuss with your 3 year old why there is sometimes corn in his poop. And then have another conversation about how it's really not appropriate to conversate about your poop. LORD DELIVER ME.
Guys just seem to have it lucky in that whole, being alone a lot of the day way. And in that whole, THEY DON'T HAVE TO CARRY THE CHILD WAY. Can I just say, to this day I still don't understand why we don't alternate pregnancies. I guess we would have to sit down and figure out an exit plan for the little person, but beyond that, it seems like it should be an every other thing, AMIRIGHT?
I would like my husband to come home from the hospital and spend 20 minutes looking in the mirror at his postpartum body, and then cry in the corner for 1 hour until his boobs are so full of milk he has to nurse the baby. Actually, I don't really want him to do this, thinking of him doing this whole scenario just made me feel really weird, but it would be nice if he could know how this actually feels. Because when I'm 4 months postpartum and still feel like a doughy blow fish, it really doesn't help when he tells me that the weight will still come off. UMMMM It is off you jerk, it has just displaced itself in very different areas on my body and I look like a stretched out version of my former self. The correct answer was "you have never looked so hot! I got nervous because I thought Heidi Klum broke into our house to use our mirror." I'm going to go take a bath and sob now, because you didn't say the Heidi Klum thing, thankssomuch.
I also feel a little guilty that for this kid, there isn't that excitement that there was before. The first pregnancy is of course, over-the-top, beaming, rainbows and butterflies. YES! We can procreate! We did it! You're stuff works, my stuff works, BOOM, we are doing this thing. The second pregnancy was exciting in a different way - we are giving you a sibling! You're going to have so much fun together! This time around I almost just feel irresponsible - are we really equipped for this? Some days I can barely get the 2 I have dressed and fed. There was a day a couple weeks ago that I'm pretty sure all they ate was a ton of cereal and mandarin oranges. There isn't a spare minute in the day so where is this new baby gonna fit? I feel like if my kids were behaving their typical crazy way at the grocery store and I was also pregnant people would just walk by me and shake their heads. If there were thought bubbles over their heads, they would say, "that lady should probably stop procreating and handle those ones."
If I'm forced to think of some positives I guess I do look forward to the day I eat 6 krispy kreme donuts in one sitting and don't really feel any guilt. Sure, there's a chance that 2 lb kid in there is going to have a killer sugar crash in a few hours but I'll be napping when that happens. There will be lots of chocolate eaten in my bed, and in the bath. You really haven't lived until you have eaten half a bag of caramel doves in the bath tub. That will happen, and it will be fun. So there you have it. The good the bad and the ugly about our preparations and my TMI thoughts to have more children. Thank you Jesus for the ones you have given me, and I pray you bless us with one when the time is right. And if you decide that dropping it in a moses basket like a stork next May is best, then I'm all for that plan.
Question for you to ponder:
If you had to lose your taste or your hearing, which would it be?
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
I will cut you
Today I posted a note on the front door. I used a green sharpie. I regret it, but only a little. The note said:
If you ring the doorbell, I will cut you.
Ya.....I did add a smiley face.
You see, my son Luke had been woken up twice. The first was when my other little boy, Brooks, and I were racing to his bedroom for his rest, and we were too loud. Luke started to cry and I immediately regretted our fit of giggles because I knew I was so close to that magical, sparkly afternoon "free time." But I got Luke settled down and breathed a sigh of relief as I went to make myself a grilled cheese. Then, the mailman came to the door. He brings up all of our packages and rings our doorbell and talks to me for 10 minutes about the Dolphins until he realizes I know absolutely nothing and then gets bored of me. Well, Mark the mailman knows that my monsters nap, but he forgot and rang the doorbell, and bless his heart was cringing by the time I opened the door because he knew what he had done! He was already muttering "I'm so sorry" and slinking away in a sad sort of moonwalk. I must be really scary in the afternoon. Nonetheless, Luke was awake again and another 20 minutes was shaved off of my beautiful, sparkly, afternoon alone time. So this time, when I emerged after getting Luke down a second time, I wrote a note. I was desperate, I was tired, and my grilled cheese was cold. So I wrote, If you ring the doorbell, I will cut you.
I worked at the church this morning, and during the afternoon on these days, I need my "rest time" more than anything. "Rest time" for us typically means that Luke takes a 3 hour nap (praise Jesus!) and Brooks goes in his room. Brooks doesn't nap a ton anymore but he knows he is supposed to be in his room and by some miracle of God, on most days, he actually does stay in his room for 2-3 hours. A lot of moms will gasp and say "Oh you're so lucky!" when they hear this but I will say, I worked really hard at it. This isn't something that happened overnight, and I believe kids can be trained to nap/rest like this. I also believe that most need it, and if they don't, well I do, so it's happening. When Brooks transitioned to a big bed from a crib there was a rough week in there when he realized he had more freedom, but I cracked the whip and reminded him that Mom goes bonkers if she doesn't get a mental break.
Why does mom need naptime? Well there are lots of reasons. There isn't one certain thing I do during naptime, but there are a few things I rotate between.....
1. Watch trashy television
Well I'm not sure if you could call 19 kids and counting trashy. It's pretty much amazing. The Duggers are wonderful people, and quite frankly, they are intoxicating. I don't know why, because I am not anything like them, but I find them fascinating, and when I lay in bed, and watch their children "court" potential lifelong mates and all they can do is give each other a SIDE HUG, things in the world seem like they might be ok. Then I typically follow that show up with the Real Housewives of whatever city and I'm back on planet earth. I don't know why I love these shows but I do. I also love Sister Wives, Preachers Daughters, and Southern Charm, Lord I need a life.
2. Make believe online shop
I love to put things in my online shopping bag and pretend that I am Kim Kardashian and I'm going to order them all. My favorite websites are
Lululemon - workout gear that costs one million dollars. I want to hate it but I can't and continue to buy leggings that must be made out of gold.
Anthropologie - I want to look like that cool, music festival, laid back hot mama but I think when I try it comes off as mostly homeless disheveled.
Forever21- Once I turned 30, it really became more embarrassing than ever to actually walk into the store, so I began to shop online at this store even more. The hard thing is sizing, if I actually do order something. Most of the time I need a double extra-large from this store and half the time the dresses are so short that I need to layer my one-million dollar workout leggings under them.
3. Take a nap myself
I haven't done this as much lately, especially now that Brooks doesn't nap, but sometimes, it just feels so decadent to pass out myself in the bright sunshine afternoon and get all drool-crusted. Whenever my husband and I nap together on the weekends I always want to explain that I don't do this everyday! Because seriously, I don't!
4. Lay in bed and stare at the ceiling
The last thing I like to do is actually what I probably do the most. Yesterday from 345-430 Brooks asked me, probably 1,345 times, what happens to ducks when they die. I MEAN SERIOUSLY. I tried everything - I answered the question logically (they go to heaven, you will see some ducks in heaven). I answered it with a question (Where do you think they go?). I answered it over. and over. and over. And then I wanted to bang my head against a brick wall. Being a mom in this stage is just hard. Their little brains are working so much to decipher all the new stuff that's thrown at them and it's so much responsibility to be responsible for these little developing brains, sometimes it just feels so right to lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. Sometimes I daydream, sometimes I don't. Mostly I think about nothing, which I have learned since being married that men do A LOT. When Zac and I were first married, I would ask him allll the time, "What are you thinking?" I quickly learned, the answer is NOTHING allll the time. It used to make me really mad, and then I realized that men may be on to something (with this one thing).
So the moral of this story is that, I need at least one hour in the afternoon to not have to ponder where ducks go when they die, and I'm sorry if you ever come to my door and there is a curt note.
I decided to go with the tagline where I will ask a question to my readers that I have been legitamately pondering....today's question is:
If you had a choice to live the rest of your life on Mars (but you got to bring your family) or you had to be bald and gain 75 pounds you couldn't lose, which would you choose? DISCUSSSSSS
If you ring the doorbell, I will cut you.
Ya.....I did add a smiley face.
You see, my son Luke had been woken up twice. The first was when my other little boy, Brooks, and I were racing to his bedroom for his rest, and we were too loud. Luke started to cry and I immediately regretted our fit of giggles because I knew I was so close to that magical, sparkly afternoon "free time." But I got Luke settled down and breathed a sigh of relief as I went to make myself a grilled cheese. Then, the mailman came to the door. He brings up all of our packages and rings our doorbell and talks to me for 10 minutes about the Dolphins until he realizes I know absolutely nothing and then gets bored of me. Well, Mark the mailman knows that my monsters nap, but he forgot and rang the doorbell, and bless his heart was cringing by the time I opened the door because he knew what he had done! He was already muttering "I'm so sorry" and slinking away in a sad sort of moonwalk. I must be really scary in the afternoon. Nonetheless, Luke was awake again and another 20 minutes was shaved off of my beautiful, sparkly, afternoon alone time. So this time, when I emerged after getting Luke down a second time, I wrote a note. I was desperate, I was tired, and my grilled cheese was cold. So I wrote, If you ring the doorbell, I will cut you.
I worked at the church this morning, and during the afternoon on these days, I need my "rest time" more than anything. "Rest time" for us typically means that Luke takes a 3 hour nap (praise Jesus!) and Brooks goes in his room. Brooks doesn't nap a ton anymore but he knows he is supposed to be in his room and by some miracle of God, on most days, he actually does stay in his room for 2-3 hours. A lot of moms will gasp and say "Oh you're so lucky!" when they hear this but I will say, I worked really hard at it. This isn't something that happened overnight, and I believe kids can be trained to nap/rest like this. I also believe that most need it, and if they don't, well I do, so it's happening. When Brooks transitioned to a big bed from a crib there was a rough week in there when he realized he had more freedom, but I cracked the whip and reminded him that Mom goes bonkers if she doesn't get a mental break.
Why does mom need naptime? Well there are lots of reasons. There isn't one certain thing I do during naptime, but there are a few things I rotate between.....
1. Watch trashy television
Well I'm not sure if you could call 19 kids and counting trashy. It's pretty much amazing. The Duggers are wonderful people, and quite frankly, they are intoxicating. I don't know why, because I am not anything like them, but I find them fascinating, and when I lay in bed, and watch their children "court" potential lifelong mates and all they can do is give each other a SIDE HUG, things in the world seem like they might be ok. Then I typically follow that show up with the Real Housewives of whatever city and I'm back on planet earth. I don't know why I love these shows but I do. I also love Sister Wives, Preachers Daughters, and Southern Charm, Lord I need a life.
2. Make believe online shop
I love to put things in my online shopping bag and pretend that I am Kim Kardashian and I'm going to order them all. My favorite websites are
Lululemon - workout gear that costs one million dollars. I want to hate it but I can't and continue to buy leggings that must be made out of gold.
Anthropologie - I want to look like that cool, music festival, laid back hot mama but I think when I try it comes off as mostly homeless disheveled.
Forever21- Once I turned 30, it really became more embarrassing than ever to actually walk into the store, so I began to shop online at this store even more. The hard thing is sizing, if I actually do order something. Most of the time I need a double extra-large from this store and half the time the dresses are so short that I need to layer my one-million dollar workout leggings under them.
3. Take a nap myself
I haven't done this as much lately, especially now that Brooks doesn't nap, but sometimes, it just feels so decadent to pass out myself in the bright sunshine afternoon and get all drool-crusted. Whenever my husband and I nap together on the weekends I always want to explain that I don't do this everyday! Because seriously, I don't!
4. Lay in bed and stare at the ceiling
The last thing I like to do is actually what I probably do the most. Yesterday from 345-430 Brooks asked me, probably 1,345 times, what happens to ducks when they die. I MEAN SERIOUSLY. I tried everything - I answered the question logically (they go to heaven, you will see some ducks in heaven). I answered it with a question (Where do you think they go?). I answered it over. and over. and over. And then I wanted to bang my head against a brick wall. Being a mom in this stage is just hard. Their little brains are working so much to decipher all the new stuff that's thrown at them and it's so much responsibility to be responsible for these little developing brains, sometimes it just feels so right to lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. Sometimes I daydream, sometimes I don't. Mostly I think about nothing, which I have learned since being married that men do A LOT. When Zac and I were first married, I would ask him allll the time, "What are you thinking?" I quickly learned, the answer is NOTHING allll the time. It used to make me really mad, and then I realized that men may be on to something (with this one thing).
So the moral of this story is that, I need at least one hour in the afternoon to not have to ponder where ducks go when they die, and I'm sorry if you ever come to my door and there is a curt note.
I decided to go with the tagline where I will ask a question to my readers that I have been legitamately pondering....today's question is:
If you had a choice to live the rest of your life on Mars (but you got to bring your family) or you had to be bald and gain 75 pounds you couldn't lose, which would you choose? DISCUSSSSSS
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Being a woman is hard work
One thing that might make it hard for me to blog a lot is when nothing really interesting happens to me so I just want to say that I'm very sorry, reader, if I ever get boring!
Following the fun Wednesday adventures of having our toilet removed from the wall, I guess God decided to give me a break and give me a fabulous Thursday and Friday. Thursday we just worked at the church in the morning and then I got to go to the outlets with my mom and my sister all afternoon! It was fabulous, is there anything better than girl time!? It's days like these I want a girl so bad. My mom and sister and I sat at the Cheesecake Factory giggling about girly things for a few hours and roamed in and out of stores and I wasn't looking at my watch because my babysitter was free, my husband! My mom bought me this adorable dress and I think I might wear it to Easter service tomorrow. I have to volunteer in the 1 year old room first though, and it is a lot of sitting down and getting up and down, so I tend to wear pants, but I'm anxious to wear this cute dress! It's still online at the jcrew factory site and on sale for $53! It runs big if you are going to splurge :)
Thankfully my husband is a saint and took the boys to Lion Country Safari on Friday, his day off. This place is pretty cool, and about 1 hour away from our house. You get to drive through a safari-like setting first and see all the animals, and then your ticket buys you entry into a fairly nice theme park with rides and a petting zoo. I have been a couple times with the boys and at the risk of sounding like a total Debbie Downer I would probably rather be sedated at the dentist. It's wonderful to see Brooks so happy but it's usually about 105 degrees in the shade and smells like animal poop everywhere.
Something about hot theme parks always seem to bring out the grumpy in me. Everyone around me suddenly seems way more trashy than me and I feel like I'm by far the classiest person in a 100-mile radius. Then, I realize I also stink and have huge pit stains and last time, I was still nursing so with the enormous leakage of breast milk all over my shirt, I realize I fit right in. And then I want to cry. It's usually about then that I see Brooks pet a goat and immediately lick his hand. They are good for about 2 hours and I feel proud of myself for taking them and then they have the most epic meltdowns as soon as we hit the car and I want to pass out. Why are kids always so naughty right after you have done something wonderful for them? I always end up repeatedly saying in my "you're in trouble" voice, "Fine then we won't go anywhere fun anymore because clearly you don't appreciate it!" Then I curse myself for the hour drive home that I should never take them anywhere because they are just as happy getting slurpees at 7-11. My husband's brain just doesn't seem to work like that so I guess I'll let him continue the solo safari trips....
He actually convinced another offense line assistant coach to accompany him, I am wondering if he bought him a case of Bud Light or just slightly drugged him and threw him in the car. I have to wonder what people thought about that crew about 2 large men and 2 small children walking around the Safari. Ben you're a saint for going along!
And after! Selfie in the car like the crazy mom that I am, because I knew within 10 minutes of being home someone was going to slime smushed banana in my hair. Isn't that crazy. I wasn't going to put these up because quite frankly it's embarrassing, but it also feels sort of liberating. Sort of like I'm one of those brave soldier moms who posts pictures of their 3-days postpartum belly to prove you really do still look pregnant afterwards.
After my haircut I went and took my little nugget Brooks for a haircut. He kept asking if I was getting my haircut too and I told him a couple times I had just gotten mine cut. Then he finally said, yea momma you did because it looks so smooth not crazy like a lion. Awesome.
Also, I just want all my readers to know I went ahead and ordered that leopard romper. I was feeling sassy and since it's from Forever21 it was $22.80. Here is a link in case you also feel like you might want to look like Nicole Richie in the 90s......
http://www.forever21.com/Product/Product.aspx?Br=F21&Category=Jumpsuit_Romper&ProductID=2000126382&VariantID=
I have no idea why I wanted that thing so bad but I did. I love the romper trend and think it is so cute. Sometimes I think they might make me look a little silly yet I continue to get them.
We are heading out tonight to a Miami Marlins vs. Seattle Mariners baseball game. I am excited! One of my best friends, Camden, who I met while attending grad school at Nebraska, now works at the Mariners and always completely spoils my boys with neat Mariners stuff. Brooks has a really cool mini baseball bat, tons of Mariners clothes, and she just mailed them hats for this game. We decided to drop Luke off at my moms because he is by far the more difficult one at stuff like this, and Brooks will actually probably sit and watch it. Even last football season he was very interested in the games and if it weren't for crazy Luke I could have easily watched every game with him in the stands and he would watch the whole thing (and only ask me for fruit snacks about 21 times).
Finally, I'm working on a good tag line that I can end my blogs with. I always drone on I think, because I'm not sure how to wrap the darn thing up. So I'm going to try on a few for size here today.....see which one fits?
Talk to you soon, dear readers!
Good night, Miami (this one is dumb because we actually live in Weston on the Everglades. Good night swamps?)
Would it be fun to sound off with an important life question to keep readers thinking - i.e. Has Britney Spears completely recovered or will we see another breakdown from her?
Flabby and Fabulous, Sarah
Which one do you like?
Following the fun Wednesday adventures of having our toilet removed from the wall, I guess God decided to give me a break and give me a fabulous Thursday and Friday. Thursday we just worked at the church in the morning and then I got to go to the outlets with my mom and my sister all afternoon! It was fabulous, is there anything better than girl time!? It's days like these I want a girl so bad. My mom and sister and I sat at the Cheesecake Factory giggling about girly things for a few hours and roamed in and out of stores and I wasn't looking at my watch because my babysitter was free, my husband! My mom bought me this adorable dress and I think I might wear it to Easter service tomorrow. I have to volunteer in the 1 year old room first though, and it is a lot of sitting down and getting up and down, so I tend to wear pants, but I'm anxious to wear this cute dress! It's still online at the jcrew factory site and on sale for $53! It runs big if you are going to splurge :)
Thankfully my husband is a saint and took the boys to Lion Country Safari on Friday, his day off. This place is pretty cool, and about 1 hour away from our house. You get to drive through a safari-like setting first and see all the animals, and then your ticket buys you entry into a fairly nice theme park with rides and a petting zoo. I have been a couple times with the boys and at the risk of sounding like a total Debbie Downer I would probably rather be sedated at the dentist. It's wonderful to see Brooks so happy but it's usually about 105 degrees in the shade and smells like animal poop everywhere.
Something about hot theme parks always seem to bring out the grumpy in me. Everyone around me suddenly seems way more trashy than me and I feel like I'm by far the classiest person in a 100-mile radius. Then, I realize I also stink and have huge pit stains and last time, I was still nursing so with the enormous leakage of breast milk all over my shirt, I realize I fit right in. And then I want to cry. It's usually about then that I see Brooks pet a goat and immediately lick his hand. They are good for about 2 hours and I feel proud of myself for taking them and then they have the most epic meltdowns as soon as we hit the car and I want to pass out. Why are kids always so naughty right after you have done something wonderful for them? I always end up repeatedly saying in my "you're in trouble" voice, "Fine then we won't go anywhere fun anymore because clearly you don't appreciate it!" Then I curse myself for the hour drive home that I should never take them anywhere because they are just as happy getting slurpees at 7-11. My husband's brain just doesn't seem to work like that so I guess I'll let him continue the solo safari trips....
While the boys were away, this momma go to play. I get my hair done about every 4-5 months but I think I'm finally going to have to give in and start going every 8-10 weeks. My hair is getting darker and when the roots come in I get depressed because I can then see light hairs within my dark hairs and they are not highlights - they are grays. Yes I have plucked about 5 grays and subsequently cried myself to sleep.
Between that and the deepening line between my eyebrows I just want to curl into a ball and pretend I'm 28 again. If you are anywhere from 21-29 enjoy this time!! These are the best years of your life as far as your body and it's just going SWIFTLY downhill from here. Heck, if you're alone, go look at yourself naked in the mirror. Yes, now. Remember this day. It's a good day. You know when your car works great for like 4 years in a row and you start to even maybe feel a little over-confident about how you never have to go get it fixed? This is what it's like to turn 29. At first it's just replacing a tire or two, then all of a sudden the mechanic is talking to you about replacing parts you didn't even know existed and all of a sudden your car is so broken down and your savings is gone. That is what is happening to my 30-something body. If I even look at a donut my bottom grows. I hadn't had a donut in months and the other day in the grocery store, something came over me that was literally uncontrollable and I ate 3 krispy kremes walking around the store. There's something very ironic about buying organic lettuce while shoving donuts in your face. During this donut show down, a middle aged man approached me and said, "boy you have a healthy appetite, I have been watching you." OH DEAR GOD is anyone listening or around me! Then he just awkwardly lingered while I wiped icing on my workout pants. I still don't know if that was a pick up line or what. Either way, I had to eat nothing but cucumbers and stone ground mustard for a week to work off that donut binge because I'm 30 and times are rough. Just kidding, I wish I had that discipline but I don't.
Anywho, There is almost no cuter look then when you're at the salon about to get your hair done. I have usually let mine get so bad and the roots so grown out that everyone looks at me sympathetically when I walk in like I'm a charity case who won the highlights at the school festival. Here are a few pictures of myself in the chair before and during.
And after! Selfie in the car like the crazy mom that I am, because I knew within 10 minutes of being home someone was going to slime smushed banana in my hair. Isn't that crazy. I wasn't going to put these up because quite frankly it's embarrassing, but it also feels sort of liberating. Sort of like I'm one of those brave soldier moms who posts pictures of their 3-days postpartum belly to prove you really do still look pregnant afterwards.
Right after I took that creepy selfie of myself in the car and immediately whiplashed my neck looking around making sure nobody saw me being that lame, I saw this lady outside of the salon across the street. I couldn't help myself, I had to take a picture.
When I have the head full of foils I want to melt into the ground and keep looking in the mirror thinking, wow I would look really terrible bald. I would never leave the salon and walk out into real life where people can see me! It was sort of gloomy yesterday and all I could think about was what if it started to lightening!? Girlfriend would be set into a blaze of fire. Also, she is lighting up a cigarette. omgeeee I can't decide if I want to be this lady's friend because she's so ridiculous or if I want to save her actual friend next to her.
Also, I just want all my readers to know I went ahead and ordered that leopard romper. I was feeling sassy and since it's from Forever21 it was $22.80. Here is a link in case you also feel like you might want to look like Nicole Richie in the 90s......
http://www.forever21.com/Product/Product.aspx?Br=F21&Category=Jumpsuit_Romper&ProductID=2000126382&VariantID=
I have no idea why I wanted that thing so bad but I did. I love the romper trend and think it is so cute. Sometimes I think they might make me look a little silly yet I continue to get them.
We are heading out tonight to a Miami Marlins vs. Seattle Mariners baseball game. I am excited! One of my best friends, Camden, who I met while attending grad school at Nebraska, now works at the Mariners and always completely spoils my boys with neat Mariners stuff. Brooks has a really cool mini baseball bat, tons of Mariners clothes, and she just mailed them hats for this game. We decided to drop Luke off at my moms because he is by far the more difficult one at stuff like this, and Brooks will actually probably sit and watch it. Even last football season he was very interested in the games and if it weren't for crazy Luke I could have easily watched every game with him in the stands and he would watch the whole thing (and only ask me for fruit snacks about 21 times).
Finally, I'm working on a good tag line that I can end my blogs with. I always drone on I think, because I'm not sure how to wrap the darn thing up. So I'm going to try on a few for size here today.....see which one fits?
Talk to you soon, dear readers!
Good night, Miami (this one is dumb because we actually live in Weston on the Everglades. Good night swamps?)
Would it be fun to sound off with an important life question to keep readers thinking - i.e. Has Britney Spears completely recovered or will we see another breakdown from her?
Flabby and Fabulous, Sarah
Which one do you like?
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