I call your bluff, Busy Ladies.

"I'm so busy."
"I would love to get together for a cup of coffee, but we are SO.BUSY right now."
"We love you guys, let's get together."



I hate these statements. Absolutely positively despise them. Maybe because I am (as much as I despise the term), a people person. I love people. I love being around people. I love coffee dates. I love wine dates. I love just being around people. Yes, I do certainly have days when I just NEED.TO.ALONE. That's healthy. If you aren't ever ok with being by yourself, well then that's a whole different blog. But to me, those three statements (and statements like them), wound my soul. Maybe one of my love languages is "Time". Maybe I am just a severely co-dependent person. Maybe I was a Labrador retriever in a past life* and just need to be around my "pack". I DON'T KNOW! BUT! I feel as though a huge problem in a woman's life and American families in general is BUSYNESS. Yes, we all have busy seasons. The man and I were just lamenting on when did we become grown-ups and when did our calendar get so full? When did we actually have to start relying on a calendar?! But, we intentionally plan things with friends. Even if it is two months out, we put it in the calendar. My husband's birthday was over a month ago but we are going out with my parents in two weeks for it. Even though it wasn't an immediate celebration, it wasn't forgotten, and it was intentionally planned. In today's busy world, that's what we need to do.
Lately, I have been STRUGGLING with the lack of reciprocation from others. Unfortunately, people who just "love us" don't reciprocate the extension of friendship. Oh sure, if I contact and plan, they are all about it. But where is the reciprocation? When does it become a two way street? That to me is mind boggling. If I can make time and open my home up to you (and in turn, my heart), why doesn't it happen back? I know there are relationships where there becomes the "hang out" house. Yes! PLEASE! My house is always open as the hangout house. But I'm not going beg people to continue to come over because that's how it feels. Invite yourselves. I love hosting. My door is always open. Use it. If we are that good of friends, it shouldn't be a one way street. I'm burned out from trying to play the planner. Friendship is two hands extending towards each other. I'm not Stretch Armstrong. My arm is starting to dislocate from it's socket and it hurts.
Yes, everyone has different views of friendship. Yes, everyone is busy. But I do believe that you make time for those you love. I came across this blog post on Pinterest the other day and it SCREAMED to my soul. I'm clearly not the only one who feels this way.

How To Be A Good Friend

"Again, busy-ness gets in the way of this but I find that a few hours with a friend each week does wonders for my soul. Just this week I went to a birthday dinner for a friend. I was SO tired and had so much to do that I almost backed out. But I went and was uplifted and laughed and was so glad that I took the time to go- and my friend was happy, too!

Being intentional is important here. Busy women aren’t usually going to “accidentally” spend time together. We’ve got to make time on our calendars, reach out to our friends, and make it happen! It used to bother me (and admittedly sometimes still does) that I do the majority of the initiating of seeing my friends, but I know now that it’s probably just because they’re busy that I don’t hear from them, not because they don’t want to see me. (At least I hope! )"

 

 

This woman speaks to my soul. Oh my goodness, deep down to it. I have typed and deleted and typed and deleted because I don't want to offend anyone with my views of friendship. But at the same time, want to wake people up. Spending real time with real friends is what we (especially women) were designed to do. We are RELATIONAL people. We were created by Him that way. I really believe Satan is using our own busyness to distract us from meeting the needs of those closest to us. Being a good friend is being intentional with your time towards your friends. People who are like me, who crave that time, eventually stop making the effort towards people who claim busyness as their armour. And it is PAINFUL for us. I was actually told the other day from someone that they would love to have a cup of coffee with me but they are SO busy they just don't have the time. Well you know what? I call your bluff Busy Ladies. I CALL IT! Get off the phone. Get off of Facebook. Get off of Twitter. Get off of Instagram. Remember when you used to meet for coffee? Remember when dinner was fun with friends? Yeah. NOTHING beats communal face-to-face friendships. Jesus broke bread with his homies, why aren't we? Why are we too busy? What has changed? Are we so busy serving Jesus we forget that Jesus gave us PERFECT examples of friendship in the Bible? 

Ecclesiastes 4: 8-11

There was a man all alone;
    he had neither son nor brother.
There was no end to his toil,
    yet his eyes were not content with his wealth.
“For whom am I toiling,” he asked,
    “and why am I depriving myself of enjoyment?”
This too is meaningless—
    a miserable business!

⁹ Two are better than one,
    because they have a good return for their labor:
¹⁰ If either of them falls down,
    one can help the other up.
But pity anyone who falls
    and has no one to help them up.
¹¹ Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
    But how can one keep warm alone?

 

 

 

Don't allow your busyness get in the way of what friendship truly is. If you fall down, there will be no one to help you up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*I do not believe I was a dog. It's humor, people.

 





"It really sinks you know,

When I see it in stone." Over You- Miranda Lambert


Two years ago (I think), I wrote a blog about how much I hate New Year's Resolutions because I never stick with them and I am just setting myself up to fail. I make them every year anyway, but I hate them. Well, this year I don't have any resolutions to make 2013 better than 2012 because well, it's not in my control to.

2012 started off pretty ok. We were living our life in Bethlehem in a nice house we were renting. We were healthy, happy, busy, and tired. But we were good. Life was good. We celebrated a 2 year old's birthday in January, an 8 year old's in February. We planned and payed for our family vacation for the coming September. I quit a job I had worked at for years and moved on to a new restaurant. Things were happening, things were changing, life was good.

 In April, we went to a classmate's birthday party for Fred when it dawned on us, Bethlehem was not conducive to the family life we were trying to mold. The man and I went home with a plan, for the next 4 years we were going to save every last dime and buy a house so the Bubs wouldn't start school in the BASD and Fred wouldn't go to middle school. We are so patient, we went home and started looking at houses immediately online. I mentioned on facebook that we were just browsing the MLS when a realtor friend messaged us to get in contact with her immediately. Things happened quickly and exactly one week after deciding we would buy a home in four years, we had put an offer in on a house and the next day, May 6, it was accepted. Divinely orchestrated.

At about the same time our offer was accepted, I knew the new job was not going to work out. There were far too many conflicts of interest between myself and the establishment and I just knew I didn't belong there. After a few weeks of anxiety, I put on my big girl pants and contacted my former boss. Within 20 minutes I had a job waiting for me as soon as I was settled into the new home. Divinely timed.

A few delays in settlement on the other side and we were exactly one week from owning our own home. It was exciting. NOTHING could bring us down, we were almost homeowners, I was going back to my old job, we were moving to a quite, peaceful small town with a great school. Then on July 14th, I got a phone call I wasn't expecting. My grandmother was sick and was being taken to the hospital. Some phone calls later, she seemed stable and so I went into work. Two hours into my shift I was told to come to the hospital immediately to say goodbye. My world came crashing down in that moment. I got to the hospital and saw my last loving grandparent on life support. Just 2 week prior we were out to lunch and she seemed great, and now, I'm saying goodbye. It didn't take long for her to pass but it was excruciating.

July 21st came and we had an amazing group of friends who helped us move from one house to another, and set up the new one, in less than 12 hours. It was incredible. Family came the next day and on July 23rd, my grandfather's birthday, we said goodbye to Gram.

On July 25th I had a dermatology appointment for this rash I have had since being a teenager. Many doctors over the years said it was nothing but during this summer is flared up so badly I was trying every over the counter and homeopathic remedy to get it to go away. Clothing drove me crazy, the heat and humidity burned, showering was excruciating. The Dr. was 99.9% confident it was a form of eczema and prescribed me an ointment to calm the itching, but he had to take a biopsy, just in case. A follow up appointment was made for September and I went on my way. Time went by and not a single thought was given to the fact that I had a biopsy, I have been getting biopsies for other things since I was 19 and they always came back fine so this would too. Exactly 3 weeks later, I was sitting in a meeting for Girl's Quest when my phone rang. It was the Dr. and he was terribly sorry to tell me, but I did not have eczema, I had a form of Cutaneous T-Cell Lymphoma and I needed to see a colleague of his as soon as possible at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia.

Thankfully, between my diagnosis and my follow up in Philadelphia, I was back at work with people who cared, Fred started his new school, and we went on the vacation we had scheduled back in January. Divinely orchestrated distractions. Vacation was amazing. Friends came to visit, memories were made, and tan lines were deepened. I was blissfully unaware of reality for 8 straight days. My appointment in Philadelphia came, needles were used, biopsies taken, tests were scheduled. During this time, my GYN called me to tell me we needed to talk when my treatment was started. I ignored him.

At the beginning of October, I started my treatment and life was feeling breathable again. We were settled into our new home and starting to plan for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Then, the first week of November I was harassed again by my GYN to let me know I needed to schedule a consultation with him and I could not put it off any longer. It was scheduled for December 6th and put out of my mind.

Thanksgiving was celebrated with family, Christmas shopping was in full swing. The man took me to New York the Saturday after Thanksgiving and it was wonderful. I had the most amazing time and CANNOT wait to go back. It was our first weekend away from the boys that was just for us since Fred was 4. I honestly can't explain how wonderful it was but it certainly was motivation to be alone together for at least one weekend every year. "I'm in love, I'm in love and I don't care who knows it!" :) 

We were reunited with the men and 2 weeks later I had my appointment. The man had to work so I took my mom. We sat in the waiting room thinking up reasons why we were there and ways to fight whatever the Dr. was going to say. An hour later we walked out of the office both stunned at what was said. It had been determined that I needed a hysterectomy and it needed to be done soon. With this knowledge, and feeling somewhat defeated, I had a follow up for my CTCL. I was shocked (and somewhat skeptical) when I was told I could stop treatment because my lesions were gone and there was NO SIGN of cancer anymore. The Dr. was amazed that my body responded so well to treatment. The Man picked me up and swung me around the garage when I got home. We celebrated. Yes, I was facing major surgery in less than 48 hours but in that moment, we were celebrating. Divinely scheduled appointment.

I went into surgery on December 14th after watching the news of the Connecticut elementary school shooting thanking God that my Fred was safe and sound with his grandma. I came home on Saturday and took on the process of healing. And it was a process. Monday morning I went to the Dr for a sinus infection. Tuesday morning I went to the Dr because of an excruciating pain in my neck and head. After testing to rule out meningitis and mono, I was told that my lymphatic system (which helps control the immune system, which is affected because of having T-Cell lymphoma because T-Cells are your immune system), could not handle the stress of the anesthesia and it was in overdrive. I was sent home with muscle relaxers, migraine medicine, prescription strength Motrin,and told to rest and finish my antibiotics. Just as I was starting to feel better, Friday evening I had immense stomach pain, had some bleeding, and started to run a fever. Back to the hospital I went only to find out, there was no real reason why I was sick. My white cell count was great and clearly there was nothing wrong other than I had some stitches prematurely rupture. Back to strict bed rest it was. After a few days of fighting flu-like symptoms it was Christmas morning and I was feeling a little bit alive. I drank my coffee, took my antibiotic, and watched my men open their presents. An hour later, I was covered in hives, my tongue was slightly swollen and my lips were burning. Turns out, I'm highly allergic to sulfa drugs. MERRY CHRISTMAS! The next morning, my phone rang and it was my GYN calling AGAIN (at this point, I didn't ever want to speak to him again). It turns out that I had severe cervical dysplasia (cancer) deep in my tissue from the organs he removed. He informed me that within the next few months it would have been very bad and I just dodged a major bullet. I didn't even know what to say. Who knew a severe prolapse would have saved my life? Divinely orchestrated organs.

It is now December 31, 2012. I am 16 days post-op and 6 days post setback and I feel pretty good for the first time in months. I know that in 24 hours my problems won't be gone. I will still be dealing with the emotions of grief, cancer, and surgery. I will enter 2013 re-starting my chemotherapy cream as my lesion and rash has come back in the past two weeks. I will still have doctor appointments and will still have struggles because this is life. Although I don't understand why we have struggles in our life I know I don't need to. I will continue to cling to He who suffered far more than anyone else I know. I will cling to Him knowing he has felt every feeling and every emotion. He knows what I feel more than anyone and to Him I will rely on. I will draw my strength from Him and I will live knowing He is holding me, even on days when I don't feel it or see it, I will know it. I can pray for healing, a respite from sorrow, a reprieve from day to day struggles, but I can rest knowing, even if the healing doesn't come, the sorrow doesn't heal, the struggles don't disappear, I am being taken care of by the One who has been there and with Him I will walk with in 2013.

"I want to live like that....

And give it all I have." Sidewalk Prophets- Live Like That


With the passing of my last loving grandparent, I have been thinking about the grandparents I had and how amazing they were, specifically my step-grandmother. She was a Proverbs 31 woman through and through. I never remember her complaining, being tired, losing her patience. She was always calm and warm. It's the only way I can describe her, warm. I don't remember her being particularly cuddly or affectionate but she was warm. She always had a smile on her face and peace in her eyes. Growing up, her and my grandfather used to take us camping in their camper to a few different places a year and it gave me some of the best memories I have ever had. As an adult, I look back at those times spent with her and think, how? She was diagnosed with breast cancer and had a mastectomy when  I was a young child and when I was 10 she passed away. I never remember her complaining about feeling ill or tired. I do remember finding her "special" bra and some of her wigs, a definite way to freak out an 8 year old. "Mom, why are grandma's boobs in her bra when she takes it off?". But never once a complaint. Even on her death bed, when the morphine would wear off and she came out of her drug induced haze, she would cry out in grief over the passing of her daughter. She relived that moment over and over but not once did she have any self-pity or complaint against God. As a teenager and young adult, I was pretty certain that I would never allow my child to see someone they loved in such agony and turmoil. But as a mother of two, and now a "cancer" patient, I realize that had I not seen her in the end stage of her life, I wouldn't have the appreciation for who she was exactly. She was the living definition of grace and love. She was the most godly woman I have ever met and I want to be like her. I don't want to live a life of self-pity or self-indulgence. I want to live a life, that even on my sickest day, points to Him. Two nights in a row the dinner time prayer was "Thank you for giving my wife the energy to cook this fantastic meal." His prayer of thanks, as silly as it sounds, spoke to my soul that maybe, just maybe, I am like Grandma E, and maybe just maybe, I am doing something right. I pray that even though I might be having a rough day, I might being feeling down or just worn down, that His spirit will shine through and that is what people see.

"I get down, He lifts me up."

This week was the week we were all waiting for, the PET scan results. October 2nd came and almost went when I finally got up the nerve to call Philly and find out why they didn't call me. Apparently, there is a doctor with the same name here in the Valley and they sent my results to them. Hmmm, HIPPA laws anyone? Could I possibly be rich (I kid, I kid)? So, October 3rd came and seriously almost went when I got the phone call. Turns out, my lymph nodes are cancer FREE! Can I get an AMEN?! My treatment plan is all set up and now I am just waiting to receive my chemo cream. Apparently, CVS (which I have deemed Can't Value...anyway...), does not and will not carry my medication. After two days of calling to see if my medication was in, because they told me it was being delivered, they informed me, NOPE sorry, not happening, it's too expensive. Clearly, it doesn't matter if my insurance is going to cover the $2,100 a month bill (SERIOUSLY!), they won't stock it. If I can't find someone in the LV to supply it, I will have to order it through U of Penn's pharmacy and take a trip to Philly once a month for my meds. A minor inconvience, seriously. I have no problem making that trip, I could think of a lot more inconvenient scenarios that could have stemmed from this cancer. I just can't stand CVS and haven't been able to tolerate them in years so they will no longer be getting my patronage. Oh, my chemo cream, that costs $2,100 (I say it again just to drive the point home to you), is only covered by 10% of insurance plans. Thank you Lord, for having us fall in the 10%. This week was a week of answered prayers. I fully believe there is yes, no, and not now, but I am singing a song of hallelujah right now for falling in the yes category. I can't be more grateful. Yes, I could focus on the woe, I have CTCL. WAAAAH. Too bad. Things could be a lot worse. Yes, I am going to have some pretty painful sores on my stomach once I get a hold of my cream, but I will be able to carry on my life as usual. Yes, I have chronic fatigue, but that should subside when remission hits. Yes, it does suck that I am 27 and have cancer, not gonna lie, but I WILL go into remission. And if it comes back, we will deal with it then. I will always be aware of it and on the look out for it, yes, that is my reality, but it doesn't consume me, it doesn't define me. I'm not who I was before this and I'm not who I will be but for now, this is me. And if you read this, you are stuck with me for quite some time. :)

"I always had a knack for telling the truth."

I am amazed how many people have come up to me and said they appreciate the honesty of my blog. It boggles my mind to think I would be anything but honest. I am honest to a fault. I struggle with being tactful. I am certainly not one to sugarcoat things. I try very hard to be kind and not come off harsh. To be told that someone appreciates my honesty certainly means a lot.

Philadelphia went well. I had two more biopsies and some blood work done. The doctor was very nice and it was a great day of being with my Homie. Yesterday I had my PET scan so now we are just waiting for the results of everything to come together. The doctor in Philadelphia will call me Tuesday afternoon (10/2) with my results and course of action. With just the initial biopsy and what the Dr. could see at my appointment I have been diagnosed as Stage 1-B. The course of action would be at home topical chemotherapy creams and steroids. The average time until remission is 9 months to a year. That treatment plan relies solely on the cancer not having spread to my lymph nodes or organs which the PET scan will show. During my scan, I was lying there and I had this surreal moment where I finally recognized that this is my life, this is my reality. I am a "cancer patient", I am a statistic, I am "sick". This was my first PET scan, but most likely not my last. It wasn't an emotional moment, it wasn't painful, it wasn't sorrowful, it was surprisingly peaceful. I've moved on from the shock, anger, resentment, and fear and have found some peace with it all.

I have struggled with being tired for years (something we talked about last Monday and seems to come from having cancer) and right now I am whole body exhausted. Mentally and physically exhausted. I am struggling with finding a way to tone down my schedule. I am praying God will give me clear direction on what to give up and understanding from the people it affects. Being gone from my house 5 nights a week and being up early 7 days a week is putting a lot of strain on my health and right now something needs to give. Although I am an honest person, I am also a people pleaser. I hate to disappoint anyone or leave anyone in a position to have to fill my shoes when I have already committed to something. Please pray for me as I need to make a decision soon.

Sunday is the day we are supposed to get Christopher, the most adorable black and white kitty I have ever seen. Although Homie and I were shooting for the name "Saber", Fred decided that the runt of the litter deserved a big name, and Christopher is what he chose. It took a bit to get used to but I love the name. I cannot wait for that little fluff to come and neither can Fred. Apparently, he has been using the "Cute kitten" story on the girls at school to get "Awwwws" from them. Man with a baby, boy with a kitten...same story. I love my Fred!

We have currently entered the world of potty training. Everything was going really well the first few days and then Bubs decided it was more fun to save his "toop" for when he was alone in his room. After a few days and some bargaining, he is allowed 2 stickers and an episode "Diego" everytime he "toops" on the potty. I can honestly say, I have never seen this child "toop" so much. I have no shame, I made a deal with a two year old and I will stick with it as long as it means we are a diaper free house.

"Take my hand....

...knot your fingers through mine, and we'll walk from this dark room for the last time." Snow Patrol- Open Your Eyes


Transparent:  free from pretense or deceit;
                         easily detected or seen through;
                         readily understood

This blog is meant to to be a release to me, I enjoy writing and getting my story out of me. It is therapeutic. "If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me, Threatening the life it belongs to And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud And I know that you'll use them, however you want to" (Anna Nalick, 2 AM).  My entire life I've always fought the need to be transparent. To be readily understood, easily seen through, free from pretense and deceit. This is a way to get my story out, my way. After all, it is MY story with a few key characters. I appreciate those of you who are reading and following along through my journey of this life. Thank you.

 

She got the call today

One out of the gray

And when the smoke cleared

It took her breath away
She said she didn't believe

It could happen to me

 I guess, we're all one phone call

 From our knees

We're gonna get there soon
If every building falls

And all the stars fade

We'll still be singing this song

The one they can't take away
I'm gonna get there soon

She's gonna be there too

Crying in her room

Praying, Lord, come through

Mat Kearney "Closer to Love"

 

Today is not a good day. My heart aches and I'm just sad. I'm not in the mood to joke about it. I don't want to hear "Your faith will get you through." I'm feeling a bit broken. I'm 27, I have a husband, 2 little men, and my body has turned against me. My body that I hated and abused for years officially turned against me. I never thought it could happen to me. I had an appointment on Monday and the Dr. showed me off to a few others as a learning experience. I felt like I should have charged admission. Today I can't get passed the word "cancer". I can't get passed the fact that my body is infected. I can't get passed the what-ifs. I can't get passed the blood work two years ago that showed elevated white blood cells but was told it was nothing. It was something. I can't look at the fact that what I have is slow moving. I can't look at the fact of remission or stable disease. I just cannot see it today. I see cancer. I see anger. I see incurable. I just want all of my questions answered and I want to start my treatment and get on with my life. I go to Philadelphia on Monday for the beginning of my tests to stage me. All I know is I am getting "biopsies, blood work, and other testing." I don't know what to expect. I'm angry that this is taking so long. I'm angry that the waiting list is usually 4 months to get into Philly and I got my appointment in 5 weeks from my diagnosis. I'm angry that they felt compelled to push to get me in. Grateful, yet angry. The sooner doctors see you, the more urgent they think it is. I am just ANGRY. I can't explain it other than that. I am angry that it is my body they had to show off to a parade of medical staff. I am angry that they diagnose you and then make you do all the phone calls and paper work. I am angry that I have to rely on other people to take care of my children so I can go to appointments. I am angry that I have to comfort other people. I am angry that other people have made this about them and their life. I am grateful for the medical team who is and will be working to get me better. I am grateful that I have people who love me enough to take care of my family when I can't. I am grateful I have people in my life who love me enough to be affected by this. I am just angry it happened. I have always struggled with compassion and sympathy but now I have been given the gift of empathy. Grateful I have that gift now, but I am angry how I had to get it.

 

4 days and a wake up... 

 

"Back to Life...

...Back to Reality." En Vogue


So, here I sit. Home from an amazing 8 days in Ocean City, New Jersey. My favorite place to be in the entire world. My soul finds peace there, my world is right there. For one straight week, I was away from the looming of Dr. appointments and I had completely forgotten that I was waiting for a phone call from my doctor about the probability of another cancer. You know me, I lay awake at night and think about EVERYTHING. It is what I do. Every night at the beach, I slept. Even though the bed was AWFUL and the 2 year old had the most comfortable one in the house, I still slept. My first thought when I woke up wasn't, "I have cancer and I am waiting to find out if I have another" but rather, "Do I make coffee or send the man to WaWa for it?". (That's right Homie, GO TO WAWA!) That was the complexity that was weighing on my mind first thing in the morning. AND IT WAS HEAVEN! It was only fitting that as I was walking on the boardwalk Thursday morning, completely unaware that it was Thursday and I was waiting for a Dr. to call, my phone rang. When I looked down at the screen I saw who it was and immediately was nervous. Can you blame me? The one phone call I never expected came earlier this summer, now I dreaded seeing another Dr. on the line. He called to tell me how the original test I had came back with high cancer cells and the probability of some major surgery (especially for a 27 year old) was ahead of me like we had discussed. Only, the second test he had done a week earlier showed NO signs of cancer (when he was biopsying he even took two extra painful little samples because he couldn't physically see any cancer) and he was completely and utterly confused. That's ok Pal, be confused! He was always quite confused that Bubbie was carried to 36 weeks, let alone 39 weeks and had to be induced. I do have to go in for extra testing and a bigger (i.e. more painful) biopsy but that's fine. I appreciate the better safe than sorry attitude, but I am pretty sure I am safe. He said it isn't immediate and that I should get things settled down in Philly first.

Fred started 3rd grade at his new school the week before we had vacation. He absolutely loves it and took the liberty of not doing his vacation homework before we left and got stuck with it all last night and this morning. Third grade means 30 minutes of homework a night times four nights missed equals 4.5 Fred hours of homework. It was quite an experience for the both of us and I now give MAJOR props to homeschooling moms. I DO NOT have that gift.

The Bubs and I thoroughly enjoy alone time while Fred is gone during the day. Bubbie enjoys it SO much that he can't seem to break away from me, ever. Homie's one complaint this vacation was "These kids don't leave you alone." I think he wanted some time with me too. What can I say? I'm a fun girl! :) I am grateful for these men and the massive doses of love they give me. I admit, sometimes it is suffocating, and I often would push little arms away and say, "Not right now." But I learned this summer, if someone wants a cuddle, give it. If someone wants a kiss, pucker up. If someone needs a story read, read it. Time is short and eventually these little boys are going to turn into big boys who will turn into great men. They won't want my cuddles or my kisses. So I will take them while I can get them.

Tomorrow morning I have an appointment with the original dermatologist to discuss what I am going to go through down in Philadelphia. Quite honestly, I want to cancel the appointment and be surprised. I don't need to hear about needles and tests beforehand. So, like any strong willed person of my nature would do, I got an AMAZINGLY awesome tan at the beach so he is distracted with a lecture on proper sun care and not what is really going on. AHH, the powers of manipulation and passive aggressive behavior. We will ignore the fact that half my tan is already peeling off. :)

This month is going to be quite busy with the restart of Wednesday night activities at church (Homie is doing a men's study, Fred is in the boys program, Bubbie is starting his first Wednesday night club, and I am helping with the youth group girls), doctor's appointments, inventory at Homie's work (can't complain about overtime, he claims he enjoys working 6 days a week....how awful of a wife am I that he WANTS to work that often?! :) ), and just the normal back to school adjusting. So, to end my vacation on a high, I am going to finish this glass of wine I started with this entry, finish cooking dinner, and veg out in front of Netflix. Life is Good.

P.S. If you read this, show some love. Homegirl LOVES feedback!

"It's Been a Long Time...

It's been a long time, Shouldn't have left you, without a dope beat to step to...." Aaliyah (If you don't know that song, I'm sorry, you obviously weren't an aspiring homegirl when you were 15). ANYWAY! It really has been a long time since I blogged, but I have been encouraged to do it again as an outlet. A lot has gone on in the past 900 months since I wrote so I'll update you briefly.

1. The Monkies are old, 8 1/2 an 2 1/2. First day of 3rd grade started today (and a new school). NERVES!!!!

 

2. We bought a house over the summer (hence the new school) and are back in the area we want to be in. YAY!!!

 

3. I quit a job, started a new job, quit that job, and went back to an old job. CHA-CHA-CHANGES!!!

 

4. My grandmother passed away and with that passing I've learned a lot about what people truly value. I also learned a lot about her and her heart. All I can say is that I am thankful that I lived close to her and got to spend the time with her I did and my children got to spend the time with her they did. She wasn't as naive as she acted. She knew a lot and kept a lot inside. She was stronger than anyone can imagine.

 

5. At the beginning of the summer I decided to work out regularly and get in shape. For years, I over restricted myself in order to be thin and I woke up this year and decided that I wasn't going to abuse my body in that way. (Actually, it was at Christmas when my brother, who never comments on anything, looked at me and said "You need to gain weight." No one had been that blunt with me. And if he said it, then I knew it was true). I was going to eat, enjoy food, but exercise as a way of stress-relief and to be healthy. I'm more healthy with an extra 5lbs and daily exercise than being 110 and hungry all the time.

 

6. Apparently, it was a good decision to get truly physically healthy, because at the end of the summer I learned that I am not actually "healthy". I was diagnosed with a type of Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma which only solidified how I really need to NOT abuse my body but eat right, work out, get rest (as well as I can) and just be as healthy as I can be. At the moment, I don't know what my treatment will be. Until I find out, I need to truly and honestly take care of myself. It is hard when you have been in a pattern for years of restricting your caloric intake just to watch the scale go down every month. It is hard when you work out ALL summer and gain 5lbs instead of staying stable. But I need to learn that my body is getting as healthy as it can and getting ready to fight.

 

  And there ya have it, a quick update on the past few months and hopefully I will continue to write. I was told I should as an outlet and now that big kid is at school and little kid has found an obsession with all things Thomas, I find I have a spare minute or two a day to write. I apologize in advance, but hey, you are the sucker who reads it!

It's Been Awhile

I have a whole lot to say and nothing to write. Hrmph. This summer went by way too quickly. We went to the beach which in itself is pretty awesome since we hadn't gone for more than a day trip in 4 years and I NEED my beach. But let me put it out there, vacation with a Bubbie is NOT a vacation. It is real life in a different location with a sleep deprived toddler. I am grateful that we got to go, I am thankful that we got to go, but I'm being honest. My child is a handful. There is no laying on the beach relaxing with him. It was chasing him up and down the waters edge trying to make sure he doesn't drown...or steal any more balls. Yes, he was the theif. Sorry. At least he is cute! Hey, we live in America, if you look good you can get away with anything. :)  When we got home from vacation we were thrown into the world of a sick dog. There is nothing as degrading as having to collect a urine sample from a dog. My neighbors must think I'm crazy. It's fine...I am. Once Mr. B got healthy, we were able to celebrate our anniversary and had the privilege of coming home to fleas. SERIOUSLY! After wiping out Petco's complete supply of flea bombs, powders, sprays, and drops we got that situation under control. Dude had 2 weeks of swimming lessons, which apparently swimming is his talent, followed by a week of VBS and now school is back in session. I thought this week would be my down week. You know, YES big kid is in school, just me and the Bubbie, I can finally sit and relax. But there is no relaxing. Our coffee maker and dryer both died (well, the coffee maker was murdered but whatever). Two extra trips to Target, a trip to the appliance store, and a couple of hurricane aftermath shifts, I am pooped. Not to mention the affect school has had on the little brother. Since school started, he has started waking up at night and needing to be held. And he really doesn't like that I have to leave for work. Seperation anxiety at it's finest.



That post was a draft I just found from the very end of August beginning of September. I am not sure why I didn't finish or publish it. ADD at it's finest my friends! Apparently, my life is one big blur of exhaustion, mishaps, tears, and laughter. Because believe me, I have the most incredible talent of crying with the best of them. Typically, my tears wind up in laughter...either because my children feel the need to comfort their poor sad mama, or my husband makes a joke out of how quite ridiculous I am. I'm an emotional person and I feel deeply, I love deeply, I hurt deeply. It's me. It's always been me. I don't let my emotions rule me but I definitely do feel everything to the core. Something I work on yet am told is admirable. I've been told I'm loyal to a fault. That's ok. I'd rather be loyal than disloyal. I have certainly learned who to be loyal to over the years though! Sorry for the tangent, but, it's my blog and I can go into as many as I want. :)

Back

I haven't written in months and I continually tell myself I am going to and then I get distracted. This past year flew by so quickly that I can't even remember half of it. I used to pride myself on my awesome memory but now people remind me of funny stories I have told and I have no memory of them. Early onset Alzheimer's maybe. Consequently, I can't remember half of the things I wanted to put in here so now you get some ramblings about how uninspired I am.

As I wrote last year, I am not the biggest fan of New Year's resolutions, but I made some anyway this year. And like the expert on the news said (yes, they had a resolution expert interviewed...seriously America?), don't give up if you break them once, try again. Soooo, here we go.

#1. More reading, less watching. My goal this year is to read through the Bible (or at least follow the study on my own pace). I'm not doing the standard start in Genesis and go, it is a very sporadic study so that you don't get confused or bogged down in Leviticus and Numbers and give up. I also want to read 2 books a month. I figured, the hubs bought me a Fire for a reason, right? So, while I am doing all this reading my 2nd part to number 1 will come easily...less watching TV. I find myself often just mindlessly watching crap...and that's gotta stop. There is nothing wrong with downtime but I don't need to veg out constantly in front of the tube. Come to think of it, that was one of my improvements from last year. I'll just say I'm following the experts advice and picking up where I left off...wherever that may have been.

#2. It's ok if my house isn't spotless. Well, at least I am going to tell myself that until I hopefully believe it. I put so much time and energy trying to keep this house clean that I often miss out on relaxing time with my men...and lots of cuddles. And let's face it, the Bubs is turning 2 (yes, 2, already) and Fred will be 8 shortly after. I can't believe that I have two kids, let alone a big kid and a toddler. So, less time being "busy" and more time with my men.

#3. PSSSSH, there is no number 3, I'm already having trouble with 1 & 2 (especially 2!).

Self-control

I turned my Facebook page off last night when I got home from work after realizing I am on that thing far too often. I didn't realize how actually addicted I was to it until I compared it to my times as a smoker. And how eerily alike they both seemed to be. When I used to smoke, I would wake up, go to the bathroom, crab my coffee, turn some cartoons on for Dude, and go outside for a cigarette (or as lovingly refered to by my family on vacation one year...my vitamins). I would then make breakfast, feed Dude, clean up breakfast, grab a second cup of coffee, and reward myself for accomplishing those tasks with another cigarette. I would then shower, get dressed, and get ready for the day and OOOH, I did that so awesomely, time to go outside. OH now someone called me, time to go outside while I talk on the phone. I mean, I don't want to disturb anyone with my conversation now do I? I dusted the house, so before I vaccum, time to smoke. Seriously. That was what started my day off, and that is what I did after accomplishing anything. Now, sadly, my FB is the same way...except I can check that while still being with my children. Every morning while drinking my cup o' joe and watching the news, I check my FB. After taking Dude to school, check my FB. After cleaning the kitchen from breakfast and last nights dinner (if I worked there is usually something from it left for me), I'll check my FB. Before my shower, after my shower. Before lunch, after lunch. While on the phone. In the bathroom. Before work, after work...sometimes *GASP* at work. Seriously. It is an addiction, and one that won't give my children cancer if I use it in front of them. Now, to fully break a habit, it is proven you need 21 days of complete abstinence. According to that, I shouldn't log back in until October 7. Truthfully, I will probably log in WAY before that. I would love to not, but let's face it, it has become almost a way of life. I communicate with some people solely through Facebook.  I do really enjoy it (although I also thoroughly enjoyed smoking too). So, for now I am off. Tomorrow I might come back. Maybe I will surprise myself and stay off for a week, or two, or three. Who knows?

This one is kind of heavy...

*I'm not starting a debate here and I will not respond to one if it is started. This is my heart and my knowledge and no amount of arguing can change that.*


I feel the greatest destroyer of peace today is “Abortion”, because it is a war against the child… A direct killing of the innocent child, “Murder” by the mother herself… And if we can accept that a mother can kill even her own child, how can we tell other people not to kill one another? How do we persuade a woman not to have an abortion? As always, we must persuade her with love… And we remind ourselves that love means to be willing to give until it hurts… – Mother Teresa


I was 18 when I got pregnant. Thankfully it didn't happen sooner because Lord knows it could have, years sooner. But it happened. And it happened when I was 18. Literally fresh out of high school. The Dr. who informed me that yes, yes I was indeed going to have a baby, is the same woman who tried to convince me NOT to have that baby. Come to think of it, I don't even know if that woman was a Dr. or just a woman at the clinic. Regardless, she tried with all her might for me to abort the baby. Seriously. I actually left the room before she was finished talking because she was arguing the case that it would be easier just to have the procedure and go on with my life. No one would need to know. No big deal. Well, to me it was and IS a big deal. So big, that this "deal" now weighs in at 46lbs and is almost up to my shoulders. So big, that this "deal" calls me "Mommy" and has a baby brother. So big, that this "deal" has no idea that someone tried to convince me that he wasn't worth anything. Let me tell you, he is worth everything.
I remember that day like it was yesterday. It was horrible. It was gut wrenching. The words "Yes you are pregnant, but just barely", were a knife into my soul. I couldn't have a baby. I couldn't. I just started my life. I just graduated. I was just taking a year off and going to college. I just started making decent money.  Now, it was all ending. Those were the thoughts going through my head. I know the desperation of finding out you are pregnant when it is the absolute last thing you ever imagined for yourself. It is literally the end of your world.
I remember him calling his friend, as happy as could be, saying "SHE'S PREGNANT!!!!" and falling apart. I sat there sobbing in the front seat of the hunter green Civic. I remember having to tell my parents. We took dinner to their house and I was completely prepared to throw it at them, say "I'm pregnant" and run away as fast as possible. I remember how it really went, how the anger from my mom was devastating and the calmness from my dad was serene. I remember those first few months. The miscarriage of a twin. The finding out IT was a boy. The early labor. I remember it all. I can't remember all these details with my second, but this guy, I remember everything. I remember it all because someone tried to dismiss his life so quickly. To give me the easy out. Let me tell you, not much of his life has been easy for me or his dad. But he is a LIFE and he deserved his life, so we worked at it, and we worked hard, and we are giving him his LIFE.
Now I wonder, how can someone make their living by deciding who is WORTH it?? How can someone claim it isn't a life before a certain time when science PROVES it? He who denies that human life begins with conception does not need to contend with religion, but science. To deny this certainty of biology is not to express a lack of faith, but a lack of basic knowledge of human genetics, something that is even known by the general public.” ~ Ecuadorian Federation of Societies of Gynecology and Obstetrics, April 17, 2008
How can someone so easily dismiss a human being? How do you get that hard and calloused? I have seen the pain abortion has caused the women who have had them. I have hugged them and cried with them. Abortion isn't painless. It kills a baby and it kills part of it's mother. It robs so many, yet is so highly accepted. Simple morality dictates that unless and until someone can prove the unborn human is not alive, we must give it the benefit of the doubt and assume it is (alive). And, thus, it should be entitled to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” – Ronald Reagan 1982




This isn't about religion, this is about life. My son's life. A life that some woman tried to convince me wasn't worth anything. Thankfully, gratefully, I didn't listen.

I haven't written in awhile because I am just plain exhausted and can't think of anything. Honestly. The Bubs has been sick twice now since I wrote last (Roseola and now a bad cold). On the plus side, this is his first real cold since his surgery and his ears are completely fine! YAY! But molars are working their way up and in and that equals a constant waterfall from the nose and mouth along with the need to sneak in a bite of my arm/leg/shoulder/face whenever the opportunity presents itself. This behavior is 100% not tolerable and he knows it so he does it when I'm not looking. Like say, I'm reading a book in a pair of shorts. Or maybe carrying him up the stairs to bed. It's a shame Twilight is done filming they could have used him as one of the vampires (or bampires as Dude used to call them).
Last night, during one of Bubbie's nightly crying matches, the cat joined us in his room. Now, Bubs has only seen this cat about 5 times in his life because she only comes around when the kids (and dog) are in their respective beds asleep. So to have this tiny, furry, noise making thing come in his room was a big deal...especially to a Bubbie who didn't want to go back to sleep. It took some time and a few hundred Bubbie barks (all animals still currently bark), before he succumbed to the tylenol induced sleep that was enveloping his brain. After he was in bed, and it was pushing 12:30am, I started reminiscing of the days when Dude was small. When please was pweeze, thank you was tank too, and I love you was I lo u. It blows my mind how quickly the time went, how overnight mazagines became magazines, Blankie is no longer needed for a solid night sleep, and Sesame Street was replaced with Star Wars. I still remember at 4 years old being asked NOT to kiss him at soccer because people might see him. REALLY? I now have to get a hug and kiss before we turn the corner to school. Although, I truly enjoy Dude and all his intricacies, like saying Thank you to the waitress in Japanese when we went out to dinner, I would really like him to slow down a bit. I miss the sweetness of complete and sheer innocence. So, while Bubbie is keeping me pretty exhausted 80% of the time, I look at Dude and realize how quickly this stage of life goes, and try and relish it.


*Coundown to vacation... T-33 day!!!!

It's Gotta Be....

Give me rules,

I will break them.

Show me lines,

I will cross them.

I need more than

A truth to believe.

I need a truth that lives,

Moves and breathes,

To sweep me off my feet....

...Give me words,

I'll misuse them.

Obligations,

I'll misplace them.

'Cause all religion

Ever made of me,

Was just a sinner

With a stone tied to my feet.

It never set me free, it's gotta be,

More like falling in love,

Than something to believe in.

More like losing my heart,

Than giving my allegiance.

Caught up, called out,

Come take a look at me now.

It's like I'm falling,

It's like I'm falling in love....

"More Like Falling in Love"~ Jason Gray

As I was driving home Monday night this song came on the radio and I just sat and digested the words that Jason Gray was belting out. And it hit me. HARD. Even though I know and believe it's grace that has set me free, I often (more times than I'd like to admit), TRY. If I DO this, than I am better. If I SAY this, I am stronger. I am more faithful. I am THAT much better. YES, I am just so GOOD.
Then, I fail. I epically fail. I am SOOO NOT GOOD. I am not stronger. I am NOT more faithful. I am PAINFULLY NOT good, stronger or faithful. I am "just a sinner with a stone tied to my feet".
Thankfully, gratefully, I have been given grace. I have not been required anything but to accept who HE is, acknowledge that I can't but HE can, and to take His love and give it freely .
The victim of the cross became the victor of the resurrection.
For that, I am eternally grateful.

8 years....

Eight years ago today, I met the person I was to spend my life with. 18 year old me never would have thought the night that we met, (which wasn't exactly the sweetest of meetings thanks to yours truly), that we would start dating the following week, get engaged two months later, and have a baby 10 months later. If someone would have told me that night that Homie was THE ONE I would have laughed in their face. And now...8 years later, he is my absolute best friend in the world. It was a rough start, a rough few years, rougher than any one can imagine, and yet, here we are 8 years later, going on 7 years of marriage. We can finish each others sentences, laugh at each others nonsense, tell each other (lovingly) to shut up when needed (ok so he needs to say it to me about 100x more than I ever need to say it), and we can just sit in silence and be content. One of the best pieces of advice that was given to me was from a man sitting at my parents dinner table, all gruff and rough, "No matter how broke you are, no matter how tired you are, no matter how busy you are, go on dates. Take an hour or two and just be alone. No kids. Just you and him. That's how it works." It took us 4 years to go on our first weekend alone and 7 years to go on our first REAL date. I wish I would have taken that advice sooner but thankful that I did. Now the only problem is, I would like to ditch the kids a little more often and be alone with the man. But that's a good problem to have. So, thank you Mr. "Goldman" for that piece of advice. It was a good nugget of information and I cherish it. Tonight we are going out to dinner to celebrate someone else, but secretly, he and I will be celebrating us and the divine intervention that has kept us together. I pray that in 8 more years, he will still be my best friend. After all, marriage is something you work at, everyday, because divorce is not an option and really, who wants to be married to someone they can't stand? That's not fun! If I'm going to be stuck with him, I might as well like him! :)

But we're gonna start by drinking old cheap bottles of wine

Sit talking up all night, saying things we haven't for awhile,

We're smiling but we're close to tears, even after all these years,

We just now got the feeling that we're meeting, for the first time.

Oh, these times are hard, yeah, they're making us crazy,

Don't give up on me baby.

"For The First Time" ~The Script

Everything is fine...

It has been a month to the day since I last posted, and a crazy month it has been. The only thing I can really say is, everything is fine. Bubbie's surgery went well and he is fine. The move went well with only needing to saw our box spring (thank you Friend for staying extra long and helping my homie with that), and our bed is now fine. The dog is fine. The cat is fine. The dog is terrified of the cat which is COMPLETELY fine. Work is fine. The kids, the husband, myself...all fine. Really. Nothing extraordinary. Nothing is exciting or awesome or amazing. Nothing is terrible either. Just fine. Which makes me wonder....when is the storm going to start??? I'm just waiting for something beautiful.

In your ocean, I'm ankle deep,

I feel the waves crashin' on my feet.

It's like I know where I need to be,

But I can't figure out, yeah I can't figure out,

Just how much air I will need to breathe,

When your tide rushes over me.

There's only one way to figure out,

Will you let me drown, will you let me drown?

Hey now, this is my desire,

Consume me like a fire, 'cause I just want something beautful

To touch me, I know that I'm in reach,

'Cause I am down on my knees.

I'm waiting for something beautiful,

Oh, something beautiful.

And the water is rising quick,

And for years I was scared of it.

We can't be sure when it will subside,

So I won't leave your side, no I can't leave your side.

Hey now, this is my desire,

Consume me like a fire, 'cause I just want something beautiful

To touch me, I know that I'm in reach,

'Cause I am down on my knees.

I'm waiting for somethng beautiful,

Oh, something beautiful.

In a daydream, I couldn't live like this.

I wouldn't stop until I found something beautiful.

When I wake up, I know I will have,

No, I still won't have what I need.

Oh, something beautiful.

"Something Beautiful"~NeedToBreathe

I need G.A....

Germaphobes Anonymous. Yes, that's right. I am a straight up Lysol wipe carrying-shopping cart disinfecting-germaphobe. At some point during the past year, probably around Bubbie's 4th or 5th ear infection, I became a Class-A germaphope. I can't stop myself. I find myself carrying a baggie with Lysol wipes in my purse so I am always prepared to disinfect whatever surface the Bubs is going to touch. This is the complete opposite of how I was with the Dude. You're kid has a cold? No sweat. That crusty highchair? Whatever, he is SITTING on it, he has a layer of clothing between him and the half-eaten cheerios. And that kid? Yeah, he got sick ONCE as a baby. He had bronchitis and a double ear infection at 11 months old. That was it. He did get the occasional cold but nothing else. He was a healthy child. It's even more mind boggling because he has an auto-immune disorder. So, wouldn't he have gotten sick all the time? Nope. But Bubbie. Ugh. He has been sick since he was 3 weeks old and was on the verge of RSV. I used to be one of those people who would snicker inside when I saw someone wiping down whatever surface their child would touch. I would think 'Lady, you're crazy. Build that child's immune system.' Oh dear sweet ignorance. This is my apology to that mother. That mother who has most likely spent countless hours with a sick baby. A baby that once didn't get disinfected every time he left the house but now needs to. I apologize for my nasty, superior 'tude toward you. I now realize the necessity of Lysol wipes and anti-bacterial hand gel.
This Friday, Bubbie is getting tubes in his ears. I am hoping that maybe, just maybe, I can lay off the Lysol and not worry so much about the tiniest cold. Until then, I would appreciate it if the local grocery stores will continue a well-stocked disinfectant aisle.

Moving....

We are officially in the throes of moving. We are only moving about 11 miles away and yet, I am completely exhausted. Not that I am doing any hard labor. I am doing all the "business" aspects...securing the truck, the permits, informing utilities to stop/start billing us. (I'd just like to interject that it is completely ridiculous that you need a permit to move into a place and move out. Really? REALLY??) My husband has done ALL the packing except for my half of the closet. He is patching holes and touching up walls here, while ripping down wallpaper and painting there. Did I mention he is still getting up at 4:45am to go to work and taking care of the boys while I'm at work? Yeah, he's pretty amazing. The question that remains in my mind is, why am I the tired one? Why am I so exhausted? I have done nothing labor intensive. I have been going about my normal day to day life with the exception of walking around a box or two and NOT looking at the mess.

Today actually starts day 1 of getting Bubbie to nap in his Pack-and-Play. He hasn't done it since last September and didn't do it well then. I am trying to make him used to it now because he and his brother will be sleeping at my parents house the weekend of the move. Now, this little bubbie is not as flexible as his big brother was. He is more intense and just, well, intense. He lets you know HE is HERE (I don't know where he got that from) and if he wants a toy or attention, he has no qualms about smacking you to get that toy or attention. (We do not tolerate this behavior.) He is a sweet and loving little boy who wants it his way at all costs. (I've really never met anyone like him.*insert sarcasm*) His brother was not so high strung. He was more of a cuddler who would be deeply wounded every time he was told "No". So, while I am grateful of grandma's offer to take both boys from Friday afternoon until Sunday afternoon, I am terrified of the "We are NEVER doing THAT again". Which is why he is being trained to sleep in his Pack-and-Play. Hey, at least he will be well rested while beating up his brother at parent's house. :)

Woof Woof

Yesterday was a hard day. Past negatives were popping up all around me and I just couldn't shake the feeling of failure. Failures that shouldn't have a bearing on me anymore yet some times in the absolute silence of the day, they creep up from the darkest recess of my soul and grab at me.

Now today, I'm listening to the soundtrack of a 14 month old bark at pictures of a cat (all animals bark currently), and I realize, those failures are what brought me this little creature. Had I not made the mistakes, I wouldn't have the marriage I have today, the friends I have today, and this crazy little boy who thinks every animal barks and every toy with wheels is a car that says "rooooooom".

Grace is sufficient for me. And my husband and children are proof of that grace. Thank God for grace!

Well the past is playing with my head,
And failure knocks me down again.
I'm reminded of the wrong,
That I have said and done,
And that devil just won't let me forget.

In this life,
I know what I've been.
But here in your arms,
I know what I am.

I'm forgiven.

Yesterday was a waste of a day. Instead of relying on the One who can take them away, I fell deeper. Not anymore. Because while I was focusing on the PAST, I wasn't living the PRESENT. So today, I will live in today. Not yesterday, not 5 years ago, but today. Not tomorrow, not next week, not 5 years from now. Just today.

Teach me to number my days,

And count every moment,

Before it slips away.

Take all the colors,

Before they fade to gray.

I don't want to miss,

Even just a second more of this.

It happens in a blink.

It happens in a flash.
It happens in the time it took to look back.

I try to hold on tight,

But theres no stopping time.

What is it I've done with me life?

It happens in a blink.

When it's all said and done,

No one remembers how far we have run.

The only thing that matters,

Is how we have loved.

New Year, New You

I hate New Years. I hate the resolutions. I hate the staying up to watch a giant ball drop, just to say it's a new day, a new year, new hope, new, new, new. I hate it. Mostly because I buy into every year, and every year I disappoint myself. I make resolutions only to have them broken in a matter of days and then beat myself up for breaking them. So instead of ridiculous resolutions, I am making goals for myself this year. I realize I will not change over night. Or will I? After all, it's a new year and I'm not going to be cranky no matter how little sleep I got, right? Sure, then it's 3am, I have been asleep for 2 and a half hours and hear a blood curdling scream through the monitor. Then it's 7:20 and I have 40 more minutes to sleep and I hear "Mommy, let me show you this awesome lego comic that came with my Lego Star Wars magazine." Now, I haven't had my coffee yet and I hear "Hmmm, I could really go for some eggs right now." Combine the lack of solid sleep, the zero caffiene intake, and the wonderful horomones my Dr. has me on for the next couple of months and I am just a ball of joy aren't I?? RESOLUTION NUMBER 1, BROKEN. Not only is it broken, but it is destroyed before the new year could even start.
So this year, I decided not to make drastic changes over night but small little ones. And because I know you care so much, here they are.
1. I will not throw a fit (throwing covers, forcefully getting out of bed and opening the door and loudly proclaiming "Don't worry, I got it") when the baby wakes me up out of a deep sleep. Instead, I will calmly and quietly do it and if I truly am that exhausted, I will nicely ask the bed warmer next to me to please get him this time. And if I do throw a fit, I will apologize first thing in the morning.
2. I will read more and watch a little less TV. Because really, I don't know you personally Mario Lopez. You're baby is cute but come on, do I need to really know the details of your life? Probably not.
3. I will accept that I am human, I do make mistakes, I can't change yesterday, but can make today better.
4. And lastly, if I want that cookie, I'm going to eat it and not feel guilty.

These may seem juvenile, but they are my goals. They are not unattainable, ridiculous things that I am going to fail at over night. They are a work in progress, because I am a work in progress.