Fit to burst!

I am so stinking excited! My sister is finally in her ninth month of pregnancy and so close to due making her a first time mommy and more importantly me a first time Auntie with all the spoiling rights and privileges allowed the title! I can hardly wait (and neither can she truth be told!)

Isn't she cute! (yes I am totally biased)
Don't kill me for sharing this pic sis!

As a mommy and a sister all of instincts have been in full swing. I want to help her, teach her, direct her, encourage her, protect her, spoil her....on and on the list goes. It really is a different feeling though. I mean I know what it is to be and feel pregnant, but I feel thumbs sometimes when it comes to trying to help he,r part because it has been so long and part because I know (sniff sniff) little sis is all grown up and doing this family thing herself now! (sigh....sniff....)

It doesn't change a thing and it seems to change everything. Her milestone is my milestone. From sister to aunt. Wow.

And this reality makes me stop and look around. My babies are almost 8 and 10. Eight and ten!!!  Um, when, where, how???? I am almost a mom to a tween and definitely mom to a tween wannabe and about to be an Aunt. I'm supposed to know stuff and have advice and tips and shortcuts and be the someone my niece can talk to when mom "just doesn't get it" and am  I ready? Am I really that old that I can be that person already? Hmm....I guess so ready or not here it comes!

My oh my time flies when you are living life. I hope I have paid enough attention to be of help and not to have missed the important stuff.

And to my sissy... I am SO proud of you and excited for you! You have made it through this amazing milestone beautifully (almost done) and are about to enter the next greatest and longest one....motherhood! It will be amazing and difficult, but I know you can do it. And I will be here for you as best I can giving what advice I know and encouraging you and your hubby through the rest as you build your beautiful family. From one mom to another...

• Cherish each moment big and small because it is in those moments that life happen
• It is ok to take mommy time, so take it guilt free
• Going grocery shopping very slowly just to have a break is normal....enjoy it
• Sometimes taking a nap while baby is sleeping really is better than trying to clean something
• Don't forget to take care of you...you are the main pole in your family tent....you go down and all the other walls go down with you
• Yes your baby, your husband and your family all love you even if they forget to say it, or thank you, or happy birthday, or happy mother's day, or hi mom..... 
• Yes those things you do that seem to go unnoticed do matter 
• Yes mommies are beautiful too...and sexy....and fun
• Not all moms will agree with how you choose to parent, just do what is best for your family and don't think twice about what others may or may not think about how you do what you do
• Not parenting like another mommy doesn't make you a bad mommy, it makes you....you
• Yes they can seem to spawn into demon, but they  really are your children and will get back to some form of normal eventually
• Sometimes it is best to take a breath and count to 10....or 20.....or 100
• Daddy won't take care of them like you do, but he is taking care of them "daddy style" just let it be and let them bond "daddy style"
• And yes this is the most trying and most amazing job that will ever bless your life and you can do it

I love you sis....now let's get to having this baby I am ready to be an Auntie!

Christmas, colds and chaos

There is absolutely nothing worse than being a sick mom at the end of a plague that is working its way through the house! You get to nurture, coddle and comfort everyone back to health one by one, while balancing the rotating chores,cleaning up behind the sickies, negotiating who has to do what (yes I know it isn't fair but they are sick so pleas just do it), keeping your chores under control all while trying desperately to not let anyone else catch it in a manic attempt to sanitize every surface and boost the immune systems of those not yet infected. And then when it dares to hit your system and knock you into what should be out of commission- no one in the family can possibly fathom why you simply want to hide in bed all day- like they were just hours before. Yet the demands keep on coming so you push through, begging the clock to please get to nap time or bedtime or anytime that can equal REST, until you either recover or collapse hidden away somewhere long enough to be missed (hey what's for dinner?) Fun times for sure and there really is nothing worse.....unless of course you get the privilege of all this joy right smack dab in the middle of Christmas! Oh yes! Never ask, "can it get any worse?" because the answer is (cue rain) yes it ALWAYS can get worse.

Illness+Christmas= no fun, especially for mom! Not only do we get to do all the above, but also add negotiating holiday shopping, wrapping, visiting, parties, and drying the inevitable tears as sickies sadly miss out on one event or another can just can't understand why they can't go since it 's just a cough and fever and sniffles...oh my.

So you can only imagine how my cup overran with joy when I woke up a few mornings ago feeling like death drug for miles behind a semi over bumpy road left in a sauna that wouldn't quit rocking. Miserable, for a poor summary, really miserable. And the reality that Christmas would not wait for the miserable drowned my cup. Shopping. Wrapping. Menu planning. Cleaning. Helping children shop. Cooking. It all waited for me. Merry freaking Christmas.

Years of working in the medical field taught me that caring for myself was crucial to not only getting better, but would help prevent the rest of the house from getting sick again, so I of course bundled up, grabbed my water bottle, tossed back some meds and went out head first into the waiting Christmas chaos to do list. What??? It wasn't going to get done any other way and it needed to be done. Christmas was coming no matter how badly this sickie grinch didn't want it to (at least not for a few more days or a week.) So task by task, ever so slowly I made my way through each thing. There were shortcuts and pleas for help that my super hubby came to the rescue to answer, but in the end it ALL happened and it was WONDERFUL, despite the few illness casualties- sorry sis and hubby :-( you should be feeling better soon though :-)

Christmas Eve dinner was amazing with food, love, joy,  family and friendship abounding everywhere. No one noticed the store bought veggie trays, missing snacks or helter skelter of the table set up.

The abundance of joy from Christmas Eve overflowed into Christmas Day and no one batted an eye that our get together was over an hour late, there weren't ribbons and bows on every gift, some gifts were mislabeled or that food was fend for yourself and not laid out.

It wasn't picture perfect, but it was oh so PERFECT and I wouldn't have done it any other way sickie and all.



Ok, ok....well I would skip the sickie part that was miserable, but the rest...yeah that was perfect Christmas chaos!

What did I do? (In reflection)

I find myself in a state of...reflection. All over Facebook friends have posted memorials, stories, opinions and thoughts on the recent tragedy in Connecticut and post by post it has been sinking deeper and deeper into my heart.

There are Christmas trees with wrapped gifts waiting for children who will not open them.
Did I do something kind for my children today? Or did I spend more time focusing on others?

There are projects begun that will not be finished by the tiny hands that started them.
Did I create a memory with my children today? Or did I put off their pleas to do something....till tomorrow?

There are arms aching in emptiness for the child that will not climb into them.
Did I hug my children today? Or did brush them off in too much of a hurry to get something done?

There are ears that strain to hear an "I love you mommy" that is not coming.
Did I listen to my children today? Or did tell them "that's nice dear" while only listening with half an ear.

There are words of "I love you" that will be spoken, but not returned by an ever silent headstone.
Did I tell my children I love them today? Or did I use more words to discipline than love and build them up?

There are prayers filling the heavens of regret for that "just one more day" that isn't going to dawn bringing with it a precious child.
Did I thank God for my children today? Or did I mutter a prayer of long suffering begging for "5 minutes peace?"

Did I make the most of my blessings, my children and the time I have with them? Do I try? Do I even realize how very precious it is? In the middle of this terrible tragedy is a reminder that every moment counts and although I imagine many of us held our children a little extra tight that day, I can't help but wonder how long will it be before life shuffles us right back into the same ol' same ol'.

How can I remember to make each moment count as a mom, as a wife, as a sister, as an aunt, as a person?

I think it is in the little things.

Stop and smell the roses. Sing the silly song. Bake the cookies. Listen to the story. Read the story. Compliment the crazy hair do. Cuddle in the morning. Eat the creative breakfast. Say "I love you." Dance in the living room. Turn the radio up loud and sing along.

Make the most of each moment because that is all life is.....a bunch of moments that turn into memories, life lessons and living. I read or heard somewhere that it isn't the destination, but the journey that matters. Life happens in the journey not once you get to the destination.

It is time to smell the roses.

Of love and cold showers

Oh those things in life that we love and the things we do for them! No, I don't mean the children and dear old hubby, although they get their fair share of acts of love. No, I mean those indulgences of motherhood that we, with perhaps only the slightest of guilt, hoard to ourselves or enjoy with more glee than perhaps we should. The box of our favorite cookies we snuck into the last shopping trip, hidden in the back part of the cupboard that we bring out only if we are absolutely positive we won't have to share and feel only a moment of guilt that the decadence we are enjoying is far better than the sale brand cookies we served our family mere hours before. Or that special top that only comes out for special occasions and gets its very own special laundry soap, cycle in the washer and space in the closet.

For me it is a beauty splurge. Like many a mother I often skip over what many refer to as "necessary beauty maintenance," like haircuts, new clothes. manicures and the like. My hair is what I often refer to "as my one beauty" and it grows long and just on this side of having "body" and not looking like I stuck my tongue in a toaster. However, my "one beauty" is very often in a ponytail or messy bun, something I get a LOT of grief about. If I had a quarter for every time I was told "you should wear your hair down" I would have the "necessary beauty maintenance" of a queen! In order to "encourage" myself to wear my hear down more often and mostly because it is just plain fun to splurge now and again, I saved (or as my husband accuses, "stuffed") money so I could get a cut and color.

In order to truly appreciate this you need a little history. As I mentioned my hair is long. And I do mean longs, as in to my behind long. (I don't get those maintenance haircuts remember?) And it is thick. Very thick. And it has been all my life. I confess in a way I think my hair serves like a protective shield for me physically and mentally. It makes me feel elegant and beautiful and when I wear it down I get those much needed confidence boosting compliments, so good or bad I am really quite attached. Well, like most women I have had those days where I wake up and just want to do SOMETHING different or a friend or loved one convinces me I should try a new look. So I do. I have cut and colored my hair 4 times in my life. The first time, not only did it get cut too short leaving my natural curl free to frizz up leaving me to look like a french fry kid from McDonald's, but the custom mixed color ran out THREE times so I had three distinct stripes of hair. Sexy huh? The second time I wanted to try the popular at the time dark hair with a magenta highlight. Big surprise my dark brown hair needed quite the bleaching. Sadly the stylist was in a hurry so she rushed the process and I ended up with massive, tangled knot of "magenta" hair, that tangled into a massive tangled knot EVERY time I washed my hair. Fun times huh? On my third attempt I was feeling a bit gun shy, but also really wanted a change, BOTH a cut and color. It took me five minutes to let the poor stylist cut the two long braids off so they could be donated, but at last I did. It was a long, nerve wracking appointment for something most would find fun. And in the end it was.... AMAZING! She had not only cut my hair with a beautiful cut that accentuated the natural wave, but had succeeded in coloring my hair amazingly! I LOVED IT! Motherhood, life and budget moved on and my beautiful cut and color began to fade back into the really long ponytail yet again, although often I would look in the mirror fondly remembering my cut and color wishing to do it again. Which brings us to current.

I decided, with some loving encouragement, that it was time to do it again. This time I was feeling bold and brave so I asked for RED highlights and to please cut off the quite literal pony tail. Again, I sat nervously awaiting the result. I felt fairly confident, but was it too much, was I too old, was it going to look ok? The foil came off.....hmmm...looks good so far. Then the cut.....a little more....just a little more. Yes....yes.....I think I am getting excited....this is looking good. And then she dried it and it was LOVE!! Wow! It was bold, beautiful and I felt both swelling up inside me as I looked in the mirror! After gushing and proclaiming my eternal love and gratitude to my stylist we talked maintenance. Buy a good color safe shampoo and it is recommended that cooler showers would be best. Hmmm....cooler....really? As a girl who tends to take showers hotter than hot, often causing my husband to ask if I am trying to cook myself, this caused a bit of pause. I glanced in the mirror again and knew I could find the will power. However, if cool is good cold is better right? So for the love of my hair, yes my hair, this heat loving girl has taken quite a few cold showers and I am happy to say that my ""one true beauty" and I are still quite happy and the cold showers are well worth maintaining my love!

So much life so little blog...

It has almost been an entire year and I haven't blogged a thing! I have missed it and am ready to be writing again! So coming soon....catching up and hitting the highlights! Keep your eye out!

Memories and Mourning

Recently my children wrote sentences and drew pictures about our pet dog Tyson whom we very recently had to put to sleep. He was young and had many more years, but they would have been difficult and miserable years for both him and us. I had them write to help them heal, figuring if they could get the words out and cry it would be one more step in healing the hurt. As I read their words I realized they aren't the only ones who would benefit from writing to heal....and so here are my words, my memories, my mourning and my step to healing.

Tyson was MY first "real" pet. I have had fish you win at a school carnival and a mouse for a school project and got to enjoy my sister's pets, but never had my own. Tyson was a rescue and the family who rescued him just couldn't keep one more dog. After we met, I was bonded for life and he came home with us that day. The entire car ride home he kept his head gently rested on my shoulder and my heart just grew and grew with love.

He was the solo dog for a while and earnestly kept watch over each of us and our home, spending most of his time keeping the couch warm. A year later we added another dog and not much after that more people and  then another dog. It became a very full house and Tyson felt personally responsible for each and everyone of us. Often Ty would go from room to room "making note" of each person. If anyone was ill he was your constant, protective companion. When I went through a pretty intense medical scare a few years ago he knew something wasn't right and he stayed near by loving me the way he knew how, by protecting me, my constant companion.

I remember the first time Ty and the other dogs played in the backyard- it was so new and scary to me I actually called my friends to ask if it was normal for them to rough house like that. After they laughed at my naivety they let me know it was just the dogs way. Glad I'm not a dog....sheesh....guess I would have been bottom of the pack.

I also remember all the times we tried to get poor Ty to be in pictures with us. He was just NOT into it. He always had a look between boredom, disgust and a sigh I think, but he tried to be a good sport as we shifted him this way and that and tried to get him to look at the camera.

I miss him very, very much. I struggle with my guilt and keep asking myself  "did I do all I could do?" I know I did, I'm almost sure. You see Ty slowly became more and more aggressive to the point we knew he was becoming a danger to other people, and maybe even ourselves, and yet he was still amazingly protective, gentle and low key most of the time, especially with me. I felt torn between saving the dog that stayed by my side through all the difficulties, my first pet, my Tyson and my responsibility as a pet owner. I looked for all kinds of solutions hoping in my heart that there was somewhere  he could live out his life, but also secretly trying to make peace with the thought that my search was most likely futile. The very last place I went evaluated him and as kindly as they could tried to comfort me by assuring me that the difficult decision really would be the best in the long run, for everyone, including Tyson. I held back the tears as best I could and went home and made the appointment.

The day of came and the whole family said goodbye with tears, kisses and hugs. And, yes, we even made him pose for pictures. The drive to the vet felt so long. My sister came with, my husband drove and I just sobbed in the front seat. You could feel the sadness heavy in the car. Sadly, I think Ty knew what was coming, even he was extra quiet and calm for the ride.  At the vet my sister and I just held each other and my dear husband was the strong one for us, taking Tyson into the room and talking with the vet. The wait felt so long. I kept watching the shadow under the door, seeing his tail now and again and couldn't help but think "As long as I see his shadow or his tail he is still....in there....my Ty." As we waited a brand new puppy was brought in for their first appointment. The owner seeing my sister and I, the situation obvious, offered for us to hold the puppy. Such an irony holding this young new life and knowing another was ending in the other room and yet it was still a comfort. At last the door opened and my husband called us in. 

Again and again I see the last time I saw him and although he was only sleeping, it sticks with me to my very core. I remember kneeling on the ground and burying my face in his fur, telling him I love him again and again, hoping to find some peace as I tried to explain to him why I had to do it. I told him I did all I could and begged him to understand and forgive me, guilt and love and sadness filling my heart. I told him to come say goodbye to the children and when he was done to go keep a friend, someone we both knew and had also recently passed, company till we could see him again.

It has been weeks and I still cry. Every now and again I try to picture those two together and hope they are happy, but my heart still hurts, still aches and the tears still win the battle The moments creep up on me when I accidentally call his name, or walk by his bed, or at night in the dark when I realize he isn't keeping his post in the hallway, or when I realize his deep bark is missing from the all dog alert when someone comes to the door.

I know time will eventually heal most of the hurt, but that place in my heart will always be for my beloved pet, my Tyson.

I miss you my Tyson. Rest in peace. I love you.

Of Wet Paint & Wedgies

Last night my sister came over for a night of just hanging out and for whatever reason I said "Hey let's paint our nails!" And so we did. Woot! Fun times! And as most women know nail polish stays tacky for a while and even though they may seem dry can easily be mussed up with the slightest of contact. There is nothing quite like that period of time after having your nails painted where you attempt every task with fingers splayed stiff in front of you, the tension running up your arms as you try to daintily pick through your purse using the mere tips of your fingers- all in attempts to keep the paint un-mussed.

It was at this point I was just chillin' when of course mother nature had to call. Not a little whisper but a fairly urgent CALL and I new the next good cough or laugh would not be pretty. Not a happy place to be. So I turn to my dear, sweet husband and make my plea, "Honey, could you please help me go to the bathroom? Uh....my nails are.....wet." A look crossed his face of bafflement and humor and definite confusion at the fact that I was serious, but serious I was! This is a matter of messed up nails, come on now! A bit more pleading on my half, and heckling on his and finally he agreed.

All was going well, till the end. Perhaps I should have sensed it. Why didn't I see the red flags flying when these words escaped his lips, "You can't do ANYTHING with your nails like that right?" Was there a smirk in that sentence? Did he have a plan all along or did the lightening hit as he watched me struggle with the toilet paper? I may never know, but I do know this, the next moment I was NOT expecting. My sweet, loving husband was dutifully helping me with my pants when suddenly ZZZWWHOOOP! I was standing there in shock and a WEDGIE! This is not just any ordinary wedgie. Things are twisted and rolled and I can not move! It was like a SUPER WEDGIE! All I could do was sputter, "But...what....how...why....a wedgie, really???" And all he could do was laugh. My please for help fell on deaf ears.

"You can't leave me like this!"
"Oh but I can!"
"No....so not nice!"
Laughter and smirking.
"Just you wait mister! I will NOT forget this and I know where you SLEEP!"
More laughter.

Now what? Do I risk my beautifully painted nails? Could I fake it and make it work? I try to take a few tentative steps. Oh no, no, no. This is an uber wedgie and EVERYTHING is all twisted, even my pants. (How he did he DO that?) Could I bat my eyelashes and ask for help? No he is still laughing, definitely proud of himself. There is no other option, I have to risk the nails. As carefully as I possibly can I fix my pants all the while scowling at dear hubby who is watching and smirking. A few tense moments later pants, I and nails leave the bathroom intact and in good shape! Phew! Success!

And dear, sweet hubby- well just you wait Wedgie-Boy because as soon as my nails aren't tacky you are in SO much trouble! You don't even know!

Got Mom?

Two simple words and a punctuation mark, a simple question and one of the most mimicked and to the point ads ever created (at least in my humble opinion.) Got Milk? Got Cheese? Got Gas? Got Water? The list of Got ___? can go on forever because the core of the ad is "do you have this thing you need or want?" Straight, simple and to the point....got it?

In my household Mom is a need and on some days a want and on some days a guess we're stuck with her, but either way Mom is a staple in this house. I am a household staple, even on the days that family doesn't think so. Often quietly, sometimes not so quietly, I keep things in the house running smoothly(ish) and create an unrecognized calm that everyone loves and I know this because if ever I am gone I soon get a call of when are you coming home with just the touch of panic in the voice. They don't got mom and they need her see!

As a woman I am also a staple in other ways. Got Friend? Got Wife? Got Driver? Got Woman? Got Cook? Got Encourager? Got Comforter? So many roles, so little time and that is what this blog is all about....LIFE and all the big things and little things that make it what it is.