Things That Make Me Smile

With so much conflict and negativity in the world, here are (in no particular order) some things that make me happy. I hope they make your day brighter, too. :)

1.) Baby ANYTHING.

Infants, puppies, kittens, bunnies. I love them all. I even squee over mini cupcakes and baby corn. I may have a problem, but I'm okay with that.

It's a fuzzy bunny hiding his face.
How can you not love this?!

2.) New books at the library.
I love seeing a new book from a favorite author on the shelves at the library. Crisp, new pages and the knowledge that I may be the first of hundreds to experience a novel.
Pure. Awesome.

That is happiness waiting to happen, right there.

3.) Flowers.
I like pretty things, like Flowers. They're colorful, some smell great, and they
attract other pretty things like birds and butterflies.
If only I weren't allergic.

How would you like to come home to this?
I know I would!

4.) Men with tool belts. (More specifically, my man.)
There is just something about a man that can fix and build things that gets to me.
The Hubbs doesn't just make the home--he can, literally, make the house.

(Unfortunately, The Hubbs wouldn't pose for a pic. Dang.)


5.) Footie-pajamas.
Kids in footie-jammies are frickin' adorable. And, they remind me of the days I spent "skating" around my basement--
sometimes knocking myself silly on the concrete.

Pink. Cupcake. Footie-pajamas.
Seriously?! Is there an adult version?

6.) Old People in Love.
They give me hope for the future, and remind me that if I want that with The Hubbs, we need to constantly work at our relationship. A sweet elderly couple makes me picture The Hubbs and me years from now, drinking sweet tea in our rocking chairs, and that makes me smile.

Ready? "Awwww!"
They are so sweet!

7.) Things that sparkle.
I've been known to wander off in stores after exclaiming, "Ooh! Shiny!"
It's not only jewelry, it's anything sparkly. I'm just as likely to be entranced by a bathroom faucet as I am a 2karat diamond.
What can I say? I'm easily sidetracked.

$2million earrings.
Not just bling--Ka-bling!

8.) Journals and Pens.
I'm a writer, 'nuff said.

9.) Kid Art.
Kids say, do, and make the darnedest things. Some is beautiful. Some is indiscernible.
And some, look horribly "inappropriate."
Those are the best.

Medium's early work. A dress and necklace for Mommy.

10.) Clean Sheets Day.
Aside from Thirsty Thursday (Hey! That's today!), and maybe Wine Wednesday,
Clean Sheets Day is my favorite day of the week. Crisp sheets, the scent of my
detergent and fabric softener--it's comfort and luxury. I love crawling
into bed on Sunday nights.

A baby and clean sheets! Double win!

These are a few of my favorite things. What are some things that make you smile?
I wanna know!

And for more things that make me smile, check out my Pinterest board, aptly titled
Little Things To Make Me Smile.


Much Love,

One more for the road:

Large with an armful of puppies. Squee!

30 Days of Thanks: Day Twenty

This one was especially difficult to do ...

30 Days of Thanks

Day Twenty: A Keepsake

My post precious possession is a tiny, gold baby ring.

In late summer of 2005, I had a miscarriage. I didn’t even know I was pregnant. Jesse and I had separated (this was before marriage). I had moved in with my mother. Things were basically a mess.

One morning, shortly after my mom had gone to work, I woke up experiencing the most excruciating cramping. I remember thinking at the time, that it felt a lot like labor.

(Later, I found out why.)

It hit me hard.

No one could get a hold of Jesse. Turned out, he had hit the road as soon as he got the first voicemail.

Before I was discharged from the hospital, a grief counselor visited me. Among all the information she gave me, was a card. In the card was the tiniest gold ring. I’m not sure if Jesse knows it, but I still have that ring. Every once in a while I visit it, and remember the child that I never got to know.

All babies are precious,
especially the ones we don't get to meet.

The Parent Rap

Anyone that is my friend on Facebook has seen this video already. Well, I'm officially obsessed. For those of us with little ones, who we absolutely adore, sometimes we miss the days when we were a little bit cooler. My husband loves it, so it's got to be good, right?

Check it out here:

The Parent Rap

Still Baby Weight, or Just Fat?

There are MILLIONS of women across the United States that have given birth. And of those MILLIONS, there are still MILLIONS of us that are unhappy with our bodies. It’s no joke, growing a baby wreaks havoc on your body. I gained anywhere from fifteen to forty pounds every time I was pregnant.

So here is the question I pose: When does baby weight become just plain fat? 

I love and adore my daughters. They are truly my sunshine--most days, anyway ... After every birth, I’ve lost some of the weight. Usually not ALL of it, though. And, I still have yet to lose the weight gained from carrying my youngest.

I’m not gonna lie, I’m a weak-minded person. I don’t have much as far as willpower and self-discipline. (Hello? Can’t say no to my husband, remember?) If I want a piece of chocolate cake with double fudge frosting, odds are, I’m gonna eat it.

I try to exercise everyday, on top of my normal physical activity chasing kids and dogs around. So, while I’m not LOSING weight, at least I’m not GAINING any, either. As of my last weigh in, I am about forty-five pounds overweight. That’s obese, people! Yikes!

Seeing as my youngest daughter is three, has too much time passed for me to call it baby weight? I know, I’m pulling at some pretty flimsy strings trying to blame this on pregnancy. But come on, if I say it was the baby, then it can’t be MY fault, right?

I ask, because (1) I really wish I could still call it baby weight, and (2) I know someone that was incredibly overweight at the age of sixteen and tried to convince everyone that she was still heavy from when she actually WAS a baby. I think they made a saying for her: “That’s not baby fat, that’s just FAT BABY.”

That was harsh, sorry, but while I’m just being silly, she was serious.

Losing weight on my own is hard! Kudos to everyone that is able to do it. I have so much admiration and respect for people that can lose weight by eating right and exercising. I think about not having chips and soda, and I have a physical reaction. My heart starts racing and I begin to panic. Yes, the idea of not having junk food gives me anxiety.

And here we are, back at willpower again. I wish it were that easy for me to cut out sugar and carbs. I would be SO much smaller if it were. But, alas, it’s not. (I’m the fatty on the couch watching The Biggest Loser, while chowing on buttery popcorn. Sad face ... ) I learned about this new concept that seems to be working for me, though: Portion sizes.

Did you know there are certain AMOUNTS of food that you’re supposed to eat? And crazy enough, 16 ounces of Ribeye steak is too much. Dang. No, seriously, I’ve started watching my portions. I’m weighing and measuring, and putting food on a smaller plate. I’ve been doing it so long that my stomach has stopped complaining about not being constantly stretched to the limit. That huge steak? Now it’s two meals-SCORE!

But I digress. I guess they say that it took about nine months to put on the weight, so you should count on about that long to take all the weight off. Since my nine months was over two years ago, I think I might be pushing the baby weight claim.

This is my story, though; I’m gonna stick to it. At least until someone calls, “Shenanigans!” And after that, I guess I will have to start making dates with Tony Horton. I hope that’s still a ways down the road ... I’m not in the mood to “bring it” any time soon. (another sad face ...) 

When Do You Stop Having Babies?

Lately, a lot of my friends have been having babies. It’s a fairly common occurrence, especially in the military community.  But with all these little ones popping out, I’ve started asking myself, “Are Jesse and I done having kids? And, how do you REALLY know when you’re done?”

Honestly, the biggest reason that I decided to stop having kids was very selfish. My kids had just started to sleep through the night. I was waking up in the morning actually feeling rested. I had gone more than four years without a decent night of sleep. If I have another baby, it’ll probably be another two years before I get my nights back again. It sounds awful when you say that out loud, but it’s how I feel. I can’t apologize for that.

Another reason that I’m ready to step off of the baby train? In a word, Diapers. Again, having two girls about two years apart is a large part of this decision, but I also provided childcare in my home for the last couple years. All my charges were under eighteen months old. That’s A LOT of smelly diapers to change in one day! When I start thinking that I might want another little bundle in our home, I remember the days when either one of my children or charges would have a bellyache and I shudder at the memory. I prefer not to be elbow deep in poo, and my dogs already provide me with plenty to clean up. Ew.

I hate to sound like all I’m doing is complaining and being selfish, but I’m an adult, I think I’m entitled to that. I’ve been a mother for over ten years, and a stay at home mom for the last eight. I’ve devoted my entire last years to my children, husband, pets, and home. Other stay at home moms will (secretly) agree that there are times when you start to lose your sense of self. You start to forget that you’re not just a mom and a wife, but also a woman. You have hopes and dreams and aspirations. Some of us have college degrees that we feel guilty for not putting to use. Some of us haven’t even been to college, but wish that we could.

My youngest are approaching school age. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t looking forward to it. I have no plans to go out and find a job. I plan to stay at home still. Maybe take some online classes? But most importantly, I look forward to having time for myself. I look forward to having uninterrupted time to  sit and write. Blog. Tweet. Whatever. I am lucky enough to be blessed with a husband that still thinks that a woman’s place is in the home. Whether there are still ankle biters running around or not.

Now, not ALL of my reasons for not continuing to reproduce are hoggish. I know, it really seems like it though, doesn’t it? Well, they’re not! When I was pregnant with our youngest one, we learned that my body was producing an antibody that, if counts got too high, was harmful (and potentially deadly) to the baby. My body had apparently produced this with every pregnancy, and started producing higher amounts with each subsequent child. I endured weekly ultrasounds, and biweekly blood tests. At one of our checkups, the specialist told us that we would be tempting fate if we had another child after Abby. Now, how can you knowingly get pregnant when you have been given THAT warning?

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore babies. Really, I love all things itty-bitty. Jesse and I decided, together, that I would have an IUD inserted to give us time to decide whether we are actually done or not. It’s a question we’ve been tossing back and forth for three years now. I still feel a tug in my uterus every time I see a baby, or hear that another one of my girlfriends has given birth. My internal clock is slowly ticking. I’m fully aware that I’m not getting any younger, and soon mother nature will decide for me that I’m done making little ones.

But, I have three gorgeous daughters. They are happy, healthy and the center of my world. They each have their own dynamic personality. Soon all of them will be in school, and it will be my turn to discover my own person, again. I look forward to coffee in the morning with my dogs. Chaperoning field trips. Cleaning the house, and having it remain that way for more than twenty minutes. Helping out at class parties. Typing away on my laptop, without someone asking for a cup of juice. And when my husband decides to fully retire, spending time alone with him during the day. That is how I knew I was done having kids.