bye, babe

Yesterday my love walked out the door.

He left with excitement and a huge smile on his face (how nice for him). He left without a backward glance and without regret. You see, my love is almost 5 years old. He's chasing snow with his daddy and will be out of my care for three (whole) days. Not exactly a lifetime apart but it might as well be to this mama. I know his daddy will take super care of him .... but it's not the same as ME taking care of him. (Sigh.)

Boo, hoo for me, right?! Wrong. Because this is what I've realized (prepare yourself): however much I miss my little boy this weekend I am a thousand times more grateful to his daddy for creating this adventure for our son. There, I said it. It's not all about me (wait, really?!). It's about letting those I love have the times of their lives ... even when it doesn't include me.

Besides, I don't like to be cold .... and snow volcanoes aren't really my thing :)

dirty dishes

Dirty dishes used to make me crazy. I couldn't stand to see even one or two dishes cluttering an otherwise clean sink. I would not go to bed until the kitchen was spotless. 

Today, well, this is what my sink looks like...

The sight of this should bother me. It should compel me to clean. It should hurt my pride to see this mess in MY kitchen. But, the funny thing is ... I. Don't. Care. 

You see, I want to care. I want to WANT to have a sparkling clean kitchen every minute of the day. But instead, the dirty dishes sit ... and sit and sit ... until either we run out of clean spoons OR hubby decides to take over and rid our house of this disgusting mess. (He is REALLY good like that.)

Some might think I've become lazy, or dirty, or despondent. But I think it is something else entirely .... I've become distracted. Distracted by, oh let's see .... the magazines piling up on my coffee table that I'd like to read, the naked toenails that I'd like to paint, the phone call that I'd like to make, the kid that I'd like to tickle, the walk that I'd like to take, the cookies that I'd like to bake, etc., etc., etc.

It's funny how the things that NEED doing look completely different from the things that NEEDED doing a decade ago. Priorities change. Perspectives change. I mean, I still think that having a clean house (and clean dishes) is sooooo awesome .... it's just that pretty toenails and freshly baked sugar cookies are waaaay awesome-er!

a single hair

It's been 2 1/2 weeks since our dog died. He was a sweet, sweet dog. He lived with us for almost 8 years ... our first "baby". Aside from being a loyal companion, protective of the children and the best home alarm system (ever) he also tended to shed .... a lot!

For the last 8 years I've been in the habit of Swiffering and/or vacuuming my floors at least daily. Now, I'm a little obsessive about my floors so having a furry friend who shed year round helped justify my OCD behavior. You would not believe the amount of fur I emptied from the vacuum on a daily basis ... out. of. control. (I'm on my sixth vacuum cleaner in as many years.) You may wonder if we ever took the time to groom our dog because with that much hair floating around we must have been neglectful in this area. Ha! We brushed and FURminator-ed (yes, that is a real thing) our beloved pooch two to three times per week but still, the shedding was unstoppable. And walking through a sea of dog fur did not seem to bother anyone except me! So .... I set about making sure that we had ONE room that was a 'no dog' zone. Since our dog had the IQ of a Harvard grad it was easy to train him to respect the threshold of this one room and I ... well.... I just LOVED being in that room. I liked seeing my pants stay fur-free, I liked not having to pull a stray dog hair out of my kid's mouth after he rolled on the floor, I liked knowing that if I drank a cup of coffee my cup would have ONLY coffee in it. It's the little things you know?!

Well ...

... for the last 2 1/2 weeks there has not been a lot of vacuuming. No dog hair floating in my coffee. No lint-rolling of my pants.

But, while straightening up the other day I came across a single hair ... a single dog hair ... left behind.

My heart just broke.

I miss our dog. I miss all that hair ... every vacuum clogging strand.

(Best dog ever: 12/23/2005 - 1/18/2014)

garbage can strategy

I consider myself to be a relatively grounded person. I prefer to explain myself in full rather than make a rash statement that will shut down a difficult conversation. This behavior applies to discussions with DH, friends and family and, of course, the munchkins. While fully explaining my rules and decisions to the little people at home may SEEM like a good idea ... I find that they lose interest in what I'm saying after about, oh, I don't know, four words. So, I have a new strategy ... not necessarily a 'good' strategy, but a new one nonetheless.

Here's the set up: two children who are hopped up on too much leftover Christmas candy and still high from the mountain of amazing toys that have spilled into our home during the holidays say things like, "no, don't touch that, it's mine, Santa brought it to me, you can't have it!", followed by streams of tears and screams. The statements escalate to threats, "if you touch that again I will hit you really, really hard!", followed by more tears and screams. Now, this maybe be fairly typical behavior for an over-tired, sugar-buzzed 2 year old. And, me being the "relatively" grounded person that I am knows this but, I'm telling you, the screams that come from the tiny mouth of a 2 year old will UNDO a person .... totally. So, after the toy in question did get touched ... again ... and then was used to draw blood from her brother's head we decided to implement this new strategy, "since you guys are not sharing this toy and are using it to hurt one another then your Dad and I are going to put it in the garbage can!" Shut down! The kids looked at us like we were crazy (we were), the 2 year old started to cry while Daddy put the toy in a garbage bag and the 4 year old pleaded with us to not throw away his sister's toy as he insisted the bloody mess on his head was an accident (sweet, but I'm not buying it). Anyway, the toy was trashed and no stitches were needed. And since that day when I remind the kids to share a toy I hear, "if we don't share are you going to put it in the garbage can?". Yes. I. Will.

the sofa goes over there

I absolutely, 100%, love rearranging furniture. I like to move pictures from wall to wall just for fun. Give me one hour, uninterrupted, and I will organize a closet like you have never seen. I guess I get this from my Dad. I've know him to organize tools down to the smallest nail and books in alphabetical order by author. It is a wonderful thing.

My favorite time to reorganize, rearrange and decorate is when I'm alone. There is something about listening to opinions while carrying out my "vision" that really bugs me. Maybe it's my birth order. I can blame a lot of my less than perfect personality on being the oldest sibling. With this esteemed position comes bossiness, impatience, need for control and awesome decision making abilities (note: I did NOT say that these decisions were always good ones ... just that I'm willing to sacrifice a good decision for a quick decision). And this is why I usually wait until my hubby is far, far away on a business trip to do my finest work. This fulfills two purposes: 1) my plan for space improvement will not be interrupted and, 2) I won't be subjected to any annoying opinions. Unfortunately, when hubby returns home he brings his opinions with him and this has caused some of my work to be returned to its original position (sigh) ... he just doesn't share the "vision". Other times, it's quite the opposite .... he may go weeks or a month before noticing a new picture on the wall or new window coverings in the family room. Strange.

So, I carry on with improving (in my opinion) this room and that room and loving every minute of it. Bonus: the two munchkins think my goofy room improvement projects are a great game! They get really excited to see the change, "oooooohhh, Mommy this is awesome!" ... which fulfills another of my first-born desires ... praise! A little goes a long way .....

rearranging furniture like Mommy ...

girl, look at that body. i work out.

Every single weekday I dress as follows:

• black workout leggings ... maybe ankle length, maybe knee length ... I like to spice it up with a little variety
• t-shirt .... up until recently this include circa 2001 threads that were handed down ... hmmm, let's call them "vintage"
• pullover sweater
• hot pink sneakers ... whoa, you didn't see that one coming did you?

and that completes the look. Then, off to the gym I go! Baaahahahaha!! Good one.

You see, I WANT to work out. I want to run. I want to lift weights. I want to Zumba. I want to be fit and strong and energetic. I really want to. Or, maybe I just WANT to want to. I mean, I love to DRESS like I'm hitting the gym and when moms at school ask, "are you headed to the gym?" I reply with a vague, "I'd like to" but I never (absolutely never) go. Am I lazy? I like to think not. Let's see ... I skip to and from the grocery store with my son, we sometimes ride bikes to a healthy dinner of pizza, I squat and lift my 2 year old daughter about 97 times a day. That's a workout, right?!

Then there is this: my husband goes to the gym every. single. day. (Traitor!) He invites me to go with him every. single. day. (Oh, that doesn't get old, ha!) The best is when he notices my outfit on, say, a Tuesday and asks, "babe, have you been to the gym?". I want to scream, "OF COURSE I WENT TO THE GYM! I TAUGHT THE FREAKIN' ZUMBA CLASS, DID I FORGET TO TELL YOU?!" just to throw him off. I hate having to explain myself. I'm a grown woman for crying out loud! But, what I hate even more is lacking the desire to do something that I know is really good fore me ... like exercising.

Man, my back hurts. Maybe I should workout more ....

if i were prettier

So, I'm a mom. It's not ALL I am but it's a BIG part. I'd say I spend roughly 94.38% of my time caring for my children, playing with my children, crafting with my children, cleaning my children, teaching my children and, just generally thinking about my children. With this amount of time spent on children you must assume I have a family with 4 or 5 kids. Nope, just 2. I know what you're thinking ... "maybe she smothers them just a teeny bit and needs to get a life!". Well, that's just it. I do have a life and, quite frankly, I love it. That is not the same thing as saying "I love everything about my life" so just calm down! There is a lot I would change about my home, my husband, my crazy kids, my body, my moods ... all of it! But, at the great old age of 41 I can easily see that there is so much to love about the drive-me-crazy-make-me-want-eat-M&Ms-and-drink-chardonnay-all-day parts as well as the super-fun-how-did-i-get-this-lucky parts.

Example: The other night I was snuggling in bed with my 2 munchkins and we were getting silly just hugging and loving on each other. (Note: this was especially nice because my 4 year old son passes out hugs to his mama very sparingly so to get a couple of hugs unsolicited is a big deal.) Then, out of the blue, my son announces, "Mommy, you are pretty (awwwww!) but, if you were prettier and smelled better I would hug you more (WHAT?!)." Ouch. That just plain hurt. You see, I had just come from the salon with my very cute short-hair-don't-care cut. Didn't he notice? And, I had actually showered that day ... with soap! Doesn't that get me a few 'smell good' points? (Sigh.) Here's the thing I realized ..... my son was simply sharing his little heart with me and just wanted me to listen to his complaints. If his own mama can't listen calmly to his points with out overreacting then how will he learn to trust someone with his feelings? I'm glad he spoke candidly with me. I should have done the same .... "Ummm, excuse me but who's been cleaning and comforting your sick little sister each and every time she's vomited the last two days?!". Oh, wait, I guess I didn't smell that great after all ....