Do you always have to love it?

This subject is taboo, I know. But I've been struggling today and I'm putting it out there.

Do you always have to love being a mom? Can someone ever have a day where "THIS LIFE SUCKS" plays on repeat over and over and over in her little blonde head? (I'm asking for a friend; it's not me.)

This has nothing (maybe a little bit) to do with the fact that I'm wearing a bikini for the first time tomorrow since becoming a mother of two and my hips are 5 inches wider than before these munchkins. But mostly my patience ran out today. Dangerously low levels of patience around here today. "Step outside and clear my head" low levels of patience today. Am I being clear? Do I need to repeat that one more time? It got a little hairy. Grayson has spent the majority of the day getting things from the fridge and bringing them to me. There is not enough "NO's!" in the world for this kid. Before you recommend anything, he has mastered all child locks. He's an evil genius. He also has a doctorate in fit-throwing. Usually you hear about my sweet, adorable blondie. Not today, friends. I'm pretty sure God gave him to me as punishment for some questionable decisions I made in my early 20's. (I KID, I KID!) And if you think for one flipping minute that Gideon is an innocent party in this trauma, you couldn't be more wrong. He's been crazier than Amanda Bynes and Lindsey Lohan rolled into a chubby, drooling psychopath. If he isn't drinking a bottle, he's been crying or head-butting me. Freaking high-freaking-maintenance.

I picture Memorial Day weekend before I was blessed with my boys (I almost up chucked just typing that BS). It involved sun, booze and fun!! It's their fault I can't drink right anymore. And I am so very excited about the pool opening tomorrow! But even that is going to be a hellish adventure that no amount of dollar store floaties can salvage.

You are by now probably feeling exceptionally sorry for me. I mean, come on. I have two healthy, beautiful, funny and smart little boys whom I get to spend all my time with. I know it's ridiculous. I know I shouldn't feel this way. I know, I know, I know. That's why my "friend" is facing such a dilemma. At what point can she just dislike her kids for just a little-bitty-bit without facing major guilt? When is it okay to be human and just Need. A. Break?

Don't worry folks. I love my kids. I enjoy all my days with them. I know how lucky I am. I know I have no right to bitch about my life. But, honestly, sometimes I really want to. So I'm gonna. Oh my poor husband. The end. :)

Summer of FUN!

Calling all perfect mommies out there!!!!!!!! Hellooooooooo.......can you hear me through your urine soaked couch cushions?? (I recommend sitting on the floor if you visit my house.) I'm giving you a much-needed, much-deserved BREAK this summer!! No I'm not offering to watch your little brats cause God knows I mostly can't even stand mine. I'm talking about a summer hiatus from GUILT! Doesn't that sound nice? Yes, you're right, I'm brilliant! Here it goes.....

Everyday I worry. I worry that we get up too late. I wonder if Grayson should drink less milk and eat more vegetables. I worry he'll never speak in complete sentences or actually shit IN the toilet. I worry he watches too much tv and you tube. I wonder if he gets enough social time. I worry....you name it, I've worried about it. How many hours should a 6 month old sleep per day? Why does he chew on his hands? Is he drooling too much? Should I take him outside with us more? Should he stay inside out of the sun? Should I not let him nap in his swing? I've googled it all. Then Mr. Google tells me several conflicting stories and I worry about that. I'm tired just from all the effing worrying!

I'm taking a break from worry and guilt this summer. No googling deadly health conditions. No comparing my child's social skills to yours. No pushing Gideon to keep up with the Jones'. (We don't really know anybody named Jones so that should be easy.) Less stress time and more play time. We're gonna go with the flow this summer. Lots of pool time mixed in with some park time. I'm just gonna slap some sunscreen on these white-assed boys and we're going to party like it's spring break. You need a nap? Grab a towel and lay in the shade. Momma's working on some hard earned tan lines. No worries boys, I'll take lots of pictures so you'll remember our summer of fun. It will probably be the only time in your sweet lives that your momma doesn't drive you bat shit crazy.
I recommend you all do the same. Don't worry, be happy now :)

Happy Me Day!

In honor of Mother's Day (my new fav holiday), I'm going to be a little sappy. I'm not usually much good at the emotional stuff, but when it comes to the 55 pounds of pure sweetness that my husband and I pro created, I'm a big fat ball of sugary mush.

For example, my Gideon. He is the newest and last of my baby making. And he is perfect. Not in the "perfect" that most moms brag about, but the real life perfect. Busy cleaning up the water big brother just dumped on the floor? He'll wait patiently for his diaper change. On your 6th hour of playing trucks with big brother and forgot to make a bottle? It's cool, he'll hang out in the swing. Need him to sleep ten uninterrupted hours every night? No problem. Want him to smile and show off his ability to be absolutely adorable to strangers so they ooh and ahh over your perfect baby? That's what he lives for! His number one goal each morning is to spend as much of the day smiling as he possibly can. And he succeeds every day. In turn, he is also the reason for so many of the smiles around him. When his entire face lights up, I want to cry in complete happiness. He meets his daddy's eyes from across the room and jumps with excitement. This 19 pound ball of fatty melts his big strong grandpa into a pile of sappy mush too. His uncle adores his every expression and his big brother loves to give him kisses. He only has one weakness. His grandma. For her he lets down his guard. He has stuck out his arms for her since he came home from the hospital. If she walks in the room, his head whips around to find her. He can sense her presence and is fascinated by her being. In her arms is the only time he actually acts like a baby. She is his safety and unconditional love. It is the sweetest bond to watch. My boy brings joy and delight to all those around him and I think that's why he survived his horrific birth. Cause the world needs him.

That brings me to my Grayson. Oh, my Grayson. I could write about this child for days and days and never, ever run out of things to say. I'm in love with this boy. And all of his terrible two antics. Gosh he invented the term terrible two. He is a monster. Have you ever dined by the kid throwing a fit cause he wants something he can't have? Have you ever walked by a child throwing groceries out of the cart and laughing? Have you ever whispered about the kid walking up the slide at the park or the kid throwing a fit on the dirty floor at McDonalds? Yep, that's my boy. Judge away, childless folks. Or those with older children whose kids "NEVER acted like that!" Yeah right! Unless you raised Jesus I'm sure your kid was just as evil as mine at one point or another. ANYWHOOOO.......my boy is hilarious. He calls chocolate milk "cock". "Ma!! I want cock!!" Oh my gosh. He kills me. He cannot stand a dirty spot on his cup and organizes his trucks from biggest to smallest. He sorts his M&M's by color and only eats the orange and brown ones. He pushes his dump truck through any mud puddle he can find. He runs with sticks. No his his favorite word. He is a terror. He also cuddles me when I'm sad. He holds my cheeks and plants a big fat one on my lips. How sweet is that? He is a momma's boy to the core and prefers me over any one else on the planet. He loves to play with his daddy and go to the garage with his grandpa. Anytime he sees a red car he yells "Dude!" ( his Uncle Gordon) and his Uncle Eric rules his world. He is gentle and kind and then throws a truck at your face. He is unlike anyone I have ever met. He was put on this earth to make me laugh.

So far, each Mother's Day my husband celebrates me. He does everything right. And that's rare cause I can usually come up with at least one hundred things he's doing wrong at any given minute. Just kidding (not really)! We spend this day as a family cause that's what I want most. It has become one of the best days of the year. I get to take a breather and just look at the wonderful things we have accomplished in the past year. Not to mention I don't have to cook, clean or change a single shit-filled diaper! Amen!

Are you a mom? Or do you have a mom that is the center of your world? I never much had a mom. I certainly never had a mom who thought I was the center of her world. But I think that is why my boys are the center of mine. I am a self-centered, lazy, arrogant person. But one "help!" from Grayson and I'm on my feet. Anyone is hungry, tired, dirty or bored and I'm there to fix it. I think that's why I'm a better person now. I no longer care about what other people think of me. I only care about the health and happiness of these two creatures. And I will do anything to make sure their needs are met. I am a sponge for them. I absorb their hurt, anger and sadness. I feel their fear and pain. I can also laugh at them and make fun of their grossness. But at the end of the day it is the weirdest and coolest feeling to be that sponge for another living thing. It's a feeling of sweet pressure to pick up a child and feel his immediate relief. It is the reason I was put on this earth. They are the reason I was put on this earth. Happy Mother's Day!

Seasonal Depression

I'm having an off day in the mother land today. Instead of feeling guilty, I figured I'd write about it. So if you feel like being being a judging Judy, go away. Please.

This morning I accidentally dressed Gideon in newborn pants and a 12-month onesie. I've yet to change either due to lack of desire. I have been operating his swing with my left foot this afternoon because the batteries are dead. As I'm sure you've guessed, I am also lacking the needed energy to locate the screwdriver and batteries needed to complete the task of changing said batteries.

Grayson had granola dumped on the end table for breakfast. Later this morning, we colored a picture for Daddy, and when he wouldn't give me the purple crayon, I put them all up out of his reach. That'll learn 'em. He then dumped the rest of my water on the floor. That'll learn me.

There has been a faint aura of poo in the air today, but it cannot be specifically linked with either child. Normally each offspring would immediately be bathed because exceptional hygiene is high on the to-do list around here. Today, though, I've just decided to chalk it up to gas. All-day, all-encompassing, constant gas. Harmless.

I would give my right arm for them to take a nap. Hell I'd probably even sacrifice THEIR right arms if they'd pass out for just one blissful hour. I've let Grayson watch Cars three times in a row and I let Gideon skip tummy time. I've spent more hours on Pinterest today than all the other days of my life combined. Grayson had four Go-gurts for lunch and a can of Sprite Zero. I couldn't muster up the will to battle him. BIG SURPRISE...he spilled the pop down himself so he currently has NO shirt on. I'm sorta okay with that decision. No cute pictures have been taken today anyway. Probably cause that would involve too much work. We've had plenty of smiles and laughs here today (mostly at Mater), but momma's just not feelin it. I'm blaming it on the dreary ass weather.

Grayson threw a block at Gideon and, later, Gideon retaliated by kicking Grayson square in the nose. I laughed at both. Today I have not cleaned or disciplined. I have only changed diapers when I could no longer bear the guilt (I can hear you judging). The only thing I have accomplished today is planning a date with my husband for Saturday. I may not be nominated for Mother of the Year, but I'm a shoe in for Wife of the Year. So enjoy your accomplished Tuesday (or is it Wednesday?). And know that whatever the hell you did today, it's surely better than the shit show around here.

Please, call me Mrs. FattyMcFat

Before you read...this topic tends to make me certifiably nuts.  If you can't handle a little language, a little grossness and/or a little crazy, this blog is definitely not for you. Go read the last one about my sweet baby boy :)


I struggle with my weight. Not necessarily losing or maintaining. As I've gotten older I know how my body works. I can't eat whatever I want and skip the gym. In fact, just the opposite is true for me. I avoid pastas, pizza, chocolate and basically all carbs like they are chasing me with a chainsaw. I rigidly stick to my daily workouts and vary my routine regularly. It's just what I have to do to be able to look at myself in the mirror (in my skinny jeans).

Let me paint you a picture of obsession. I have 300 outfits, all in my size, that will fit better when I lose ten more pounds. Really? My husband tells me I'm beautiful. My response? "Yeah, if you're the kind of guy who LIKES fat asses." That usually earns me a crazy look cause most guys do, in fact, prefer a little fat ass. Trust me. But does that really change the way I feel? No. A big, fat NO!

The other day I asked my husband how much he weighs. And do you want to know what that idiot did? He went straight to the bathroom and STEPPED ON THE SCALE! Mid-day, fully clothed, pre-poop, post-lunch. Oh my gosh. Insanity. And do I buy into this whole mom-body business? Nope. Neither does Giselle. Yeah I compared myself to Giselle. You got a problem with that?

Fact is, I'm in the best shape of my life. This apparent obsession has me twenty five pounds lighter than when I got knocked up with my first kid. No fad diets here. Just hard work and good decisions. Occasional Nutter Butters and Alfredo. But I still stress about that number on the scale. Does everyone? Does it really freaking matter that much? If you are one of those non-nutso persons who threw out their scale, good for you! I commend you. But I will never be you. I can't live in "only thing that matters is how your pants feel" la-la land. That's crazy talk. How are you supposed to know if you lost a half a pound if you don't get on the scale? I've come to terms with this lifestyle and I think God did too. That's why he gave me boys. To break the psycho cycle. Butttttt....I've decided I'm going to post it anyway. This morning the scale said 147.6. Whew....I feel better. The scale doesn't own me.

All My Love

In a million, ba-jillion years I never woulda ever thought I would be on such a short leash. I'm not allowed to leave the house alone. I can't have a conversation on the phone in private. My shower is performed with the curtain open. You don't even want to know how public any other business in that particular room is accomplished. It's degrading. I never sit in a chair alone. Hell, I can't even have my own damn sandwich. I share my iPad, my bed, my tv, my keys, my blanket, my cell phone and my underwear. YES. My underwear. Hitler likes to run around the house with my (freshly laundered) underwear ON HIS HEAD. I can't deal.

He has no boundaries. In his mind, we are one. As long as I am within his view, all is right with the world. If I go into the bedroom to put up the laundry/hide my skivvies he runs through the house yelling Ma! Ma! Ma! On a side note, what kind of child in the 21st century calls his mommy Ma?

That's psychoface waiting patiently for me on the bathroom floor.

That's my stalker wearing my sunglasses.

Crazytown sleeping sideways in my bed.

I love and adore both of my children. Gideon and I went to hell and back together so we will always have that (sick, twisted) beautiful bond. There are aspects of each of their personalities that are my favorite. Likewise, some things they do make me seriously consider dropping one or both off at the nearest fire station. But my oldest owns me. He gave me the beautiful gift of motherhood. He will always be all the "firsts" in this journey. He is my teacher, my heart, my conscious, my drive and my love. And I am his Ma.

'Til Death Do Us Part

Someday, these kids are going to leave me. These little brats are just going to walk right out that door and move into their own dorm or apartment. Maybe marry some little chic with an attitude problem. And they're probably going to think this is completely acceptable! Like all the hours I've spent cleaning them and feeding them and playing with them and worrying about them doesn't even matter at all! Like it's a normal thing to do...just grow up and move on. They're gonna leave me with nothing! NOTHING AT ALL!!!! Oh shit.......I'm married.  I always forget that.

It's not that I don't talk to my husband daily. He doesn't work out of town or spend 90 hours a week at the office. He just gets put on the back burner. A lot. I'm cheating on him emotionally with these two little babies that seem to run my life.  He is an excellent father and I watch him with our boys and my heart swells with pride at how much they love each other. Grayson cries when daddy leaves in the morning and watches at the window for his return. My sweet husband checks on them throughout the day and includes them in everything he does when he's home. He adores them! And the feeling is mutual.

 I complain when he wants to go on a date with me. I whine when he wants the kids out of our bed. I get angry when he talks of going out of town for a weekend, just us. Lord knows I need a break from these adorable little monsters. And these kids love going to their grandparents house. So what's the hold up?  I want to be married forever. I don't ever want to live a day without being married to this man. So why do I refuse to work for it? My marriage is a full time job. We are two very difficult, opinionated, high-maintenance people. This ship isn't going to stay afloat without us paddling. And I've just been coasting. I choose to try harder. I choose to do my part. Because I want to. Because I deserve to be this happy. And my husband does too. We started this family. We are the foundation for it.  And when these little ones run screaming toward their independence, I want it to be okay cause we still have each other day in and day out. Maybe I'll let him plan that weekend away after all :)