Flaco y Gorda

My husband's diet:

Breakfast- If he has it it usually consists of a Mountain Dew, cookies, or if he can get to a Farmer Boys it can contain an omelett with extra cheese and hashbrowns with cheese.

Lunch- Two double cheeseburgers, no lettuce, no tomato, ketchup only. Fries, large Coke.

Dinner- Two tacos, just meat and cheese, extra cheese, chips.

Snack- Lays potato chips and ranch dip or Club crackers with Easy Cheese.

First of all, I don't know how the man poops. Seriously, if I ate like that I would be as bloated as a whale. There is no fiber in his diet.

Secondly, he is actually fit. He has put on a few pounds over the last year but he still looks great. We got life insurance and his bloodwork came back so good we got the preferred rate. I think science needs to examine him. He either is not human, or he has super DNA that needs to be cloned.

In comparison, here is my diet:

Breakfast- Kashi sprinkled over greek yogurt, coffee

Lunch- Salad, whole grain pasta, green tea.

Dinner- Free range, antibiotic and hormone free chicken, a veggie, and cous cous.

Snack- Flax seed chips and salsa.

And here I am struggling with the last 20 pounds of my pregnancy weight. At church yesterday we had a slideshow of our camping trip with a rear view of my booty and I was horrified to find it was like looking at a mobile home on a trailer. I simply do not understand. I am in perpetual motion with the three kids always needing me, and yet I can't shed the pounds. I am even nursing, which burns 500 calories a day. When I brush my teeth I do leg lifts on the ledge of my tub. Why am I a holding on to the junk in my trunk?

I guess it's not all bad, I am getting good use out of my maternity jeans. *sigh*

Ode to the Load

Crumpled piles four feet high
I raise my eyebrows, give a heavy sigh
For the clothes just seem to mock my grief
The shirts, the jeans, even the sheets
With ketchup stains and grassy knees
Armed to the teeth with Shout and Febreeze
On top of the dryer lives a herd of linty shapes
At my feet, lonely socks are searching for mates
Checking each pocket, then checking them twice
Reading the tags, ignoring advice
Stacks of laundry take over my den
Turn my back on my toddler, fold them again
The bottom of a hamper is a beautiful sight
As I finish my washing for the night
Tomorrow my grateful family will say,
"Why don't I have anything to wear today?"

A Day of Firsts

We celebrated Midge's first birthday yesterday. Stephen and I made his first birthday cake, which is a project we both really enjoyed.

We had made another bear cake, which we let him demolish in traditional one year birthday fashion:

It was also the day that we saw Midge take his first steps. The best we got was about five steps but despite the sugar high he was on he couldn't muster the courage to keep going and plopped his rear on the carpet. We caught it on video, which gives us another of those invisible parenting medals.

Today we had Midge dedicated at church, which was cool. He was really facinated with the lights and the praise team and after it was over we "walked" him into the nursery in big boy fashion.

A year old...doesn't even seem possible.

Boy Cooties

The first weekend of this month Stephen and I went camping with our small group from church. During the trip Stephen started complaining of a sore throat. It was pretty bad and I encouraged him to see a doctor when we arrived home but he is stubborn and refused.

So our camping gear is still sitting in our formal living room. Still. I can't unpack it all myself because it is heavy and Stephen has probably forgotten it exists.

Now here is where I have to reveal a secret about my spouse that I wasn't planning on telling anyone but it ties into the story so here goes...he wears my deodorant. He insists that it works better and that it smells better. Ooookay. I bought him his own but it was unscented and he wanted to smell powder fresh. Again, oooookay. So he has been putting my feminine deodorant on his stinky pits. I can hear the commercial now..."Strong enough for a man, but made for a woman!"

Stephen has used up the last of my deodorant and I remember there is some in the suitcase downstairs buried under camping gear so I go downstairs. I open up the suitcase and there I see a disturbing sight....his toothbrush.

I count the days since we have arrived back at home from camping...seven. Seven days that his toothbrush has been packed away. I try to recall if his breath was horribly stinky the last time we kissed. Yuck yuck yuck! I love the guy...but this is where the line gets drawn.

So I call him and the conversation goes like this:

Him: Hey, what's up?
Me: Do you realize your toothbrush has been packed away since the camping trip?
Him: Uh-huh.
Me: Have you been brushing your teeth?
Him: Uh-huh. I have been using your toothbrush.
Me: Uhhh huh.

I dropped it because I was really too baffled to decode the male mind and how it works.

Man is sick.

Man doesn't see his toothbrush.

Man grabs what toothbrush he finds.

Man brushes teeth with it.

Man doesn't tell owner of toothbrush.

Man repeats process for a week.

Wife wakes up with a sore throat.

DOH!

My First Troufeey.

NeeNee won her first trophy for that very cheer! Her team took home first place in the junior division and a spirit award.

She was so proud!

And to make sure everyone knew how she felt about her "troufeey" she made signs for it:

GO TIGERS!!!!

The Worth of a Mommy

Full time stay at home moms are not given the credit they deserve.

I can't think of a job that encompasses more job titles:

Childcare provider- aka "Diaper Changer Extraordinaire"

Maid- Pigsty lectures only get you so far.

Chef- "I don't like this. I want peanut butter and jelly."

Chauffer- Forget the limo...bring on the minivan with DVD!

Nurse- Able to list off each kid's individual dosage of Tylenol without pause according to weight and age.

Crime scene investigator- Evidence weighs heavy when trying to figure out who wrote on the wall with marker.

Judge- "How do you plead on the accusation of marking on the wall with a Sharpie?"

Jury- "I find you guilty on all counts of marking up the wall with black permanent ink."

Executioner- "As punishment you will sit in the corner for five minutes and when you come out you must help mommy clean the wall."

Jailer- "If you get out of time out I will add minutes to your time."

Financial consultant- "That's too expensive, put it back."

Butler- Ever answering calls for water at 2am.

Bank- "Here are four tokens, go play Skeeball."

Laundromat- It literally never ever stops.

Policewoman- "You are in violation of rule 182 that states you may not get up from the table until you ask to be excused."

Referee- "I saw what you did to your sister. Time out for you buddy!" (Refer to executioner and jailer descriptions.)

Fashionista- "Those do not match, go back to your room and put on the outfit I laid out for you."

Educator- "Yes, daddy's expensive watch will flush down the toilet."

Plumber- Usually fishing for toys or stopping toilet overflow (see above).

Milk Maid- Nothing like a screaming infant pulling on your shirt at the store.

Chief Negotiator- "If you are good on this shopping trip I will let you pick out a treat."

Historian- Baby book keeper, photographer, sentimental keepsakes saver.

Nutritionist- "Pretend your broccoli is a tree and eat it like a dinosaur."

Speech Therapist- "Say dada. Daaaahhh dahhhh. Daaaaahhh dahhhhh."

Secretary- Arranges playdates, doctor's appointments, and Gymboree.

Courier- "I've gotta run two dozen cookies to Jr's class today."

Cheerleader- Sits at every sporting event and roots for her favorite player.

Defense attorney- Because that bully at school is going to pay!

Nurturer- This is the most important job of all. One that defines our career and makes us unique in our jobs.

Today my eleven month old son was sick. Last night he was up five times. He was pretty pitiful. I had to wake him up from a nap to pick up Bear and he laid over my shoulder and patted my back affectionately. To him, I am everything. There is nobody above me. No concept of God...nothing greater than mommy. I am the healer of all things yucky. By the end of the day I was covered in snotty smears and as tired as I was I longed to pick him up for one last warm baby hug complete with back patting action. I turned up the baby monitor so I could hear every noisy breath, every cough. No matter that I might wake up more often, I just wanted to hear every movement he makes. He is everything to me, but to him I am all he knows and the only person he trusts to keep him safe. For that I am honored.

There is no way to pay a mom. No monetary value you can place on what she does day in and day out. Truly moms shape our world and can influence a whole generation...what other job gives us that kind of responsibility?

The last four months that I have been unemployed have been busy. I love my new job staying at home, but there is truly nothing quite as diificult or exhausting and I wouldn't trade my position for anything else in the world.