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  • Truthful Tuesdays; May 25, 2010

    Time to unload Ladies! Seems I am not great at the memes per say but I have decided there are two weekly posts I will revisit..Tuesdays are for being super honest and unloading all the bullshit that is weighing me down (metaphorically speaking of course) and Thursday will be for throat punching and ass kicking any and all imbeciles who are deserving of such treatment. It’s cathartic and I need some catharsis in my life! So let’s commence with the unloading of the proverbial bullshit! Remember, no judgment. You hear me Judgy McJudgement? I’m talking to you! If that’s what you’re here for, turn around and walk away. This is for us to feel better, lighter, healthier and happier not guilty! Boo to guilt!
    I am sick of feeling guilty about not exercising! There I said it! I do love to  like   not absolutely hate to exercise, but I hate getting started. Seriously, its such a pain in my ass to get into the gear and locate the workout dvd, shoo the girls out of my way and fully engage! Of course that brings us to point #2, I am sick of worrying about my weight. Look, I’m not going all 900 lb. mom on you or anything ( love the TLC specials) but damn is there ever a moment when women can just let that go. Seriously, I know it will never happen but for once I’d love to look in the mirror and say “PERFECT!” No matter the size or shape I am ( and believe me I think I’ve seen them all) I am NEVER satisfied. There are days when I am more or less satisfied than the previous day but never just completely happy with what I look like. I just want to get off this roller coaster…I don’t want to perpetuate this madness. HELP!!! Dr. Phil…can you fix me? Can you say body dysmorphic disorder? Enough already! Sheez!!!!
    Next, I am so monstrously sick of all the complete idiots that have been allowed to procreate and interact with children as of late! Between the Texans who don’t watch their children, the men in Bangkok using the kids as human shields, the bullies in New Hampshire, and the teacher in Texas beating the student in Houston, ( all in the last couple of weeks) I am seriously becoming afraid to watch the news. That’s to say nothing about sending my children out into the world with these people !Hell, I’m getting pretty afraid to go out there myself knowing what kind of imbeciles are roaming free in the world.What is this world coming to? Can we get some protection over here from the morons? They are loose and coming for our children!
    One more thing, is BP ever going to get a hold on this oil spill? My God…how bad does it have to get before they actually fix this disaster? Hasn’t Louisiana been through enough?
    On a positive note, in complete honesty, my husband and girls are pretty much awesome this week! That could have something to do with the fact that my husband is keeping a safe distance  4 hour travel time between us and I’ve pretty much been giving into all the whims of my girls this week. I’m just too damn exhausted to fight them. I wonder if this is how all wars are won? Oops, hope I didn’t speak to soon!Shhh! Maybe nobody heard!
    Now its your turn! Time to bear your soul and unburden yourself! Happy Mothering!

  • Where’s my fairy?

    Seems like the damn Cleaning fairy has once again missed my house! Damn her. Now, I suppose I will have to spend the whole day tomorrow not only trying to pull together some crap for my neighborhood garage sale but trying to get my house up to par before my husband returns home this weekend. You know, I am so glad when he comes home but since when does he get the “guest” treatment? I mean, wait a minute, aren’t I the one holding it all together all week long? Why should I be trying to convince him that the house is always immaculate? He’s lived here full time before..he knows these kids are like Tasmanian devils on crack. Who am I trying to fool? and why is he going along with it? That’s it, I’m boycotting! The Cleaning Fairy better get her ass over here STAT! By the way, why do we always try and convince our visitors that our house is always spotless, especially our other Mommy friends? Doesn’t it only serve to make them feel like they are less of a Mommy because they are at an immaculate house..knowing damn well there are Goldfish and Cheerios keeping company on their floors? I’m making a decision..I have to stop this madness. I’m doing it for all of us. So next time you are over my house and its not immaculate, don’t judge me…I’m doing it for you! I am sacrificing my own cleaning standards and anal retentiveness, so that you may live more peacefully and happy!Happy Mothering. I’m off to bed. See you in the morning dirty house and I may or may not give you the attention you so crave in the morning!

  • Did you mess my sheets? My 300th post!!

    Wow, if you thought dates were important when you were single~ that’s nothing in comparison to how vital they are to married life. When you are single, dating is like a popularity contest. A status symbol. It separates the haves from the have nots. When you are single, dating feels like it could be life or death, social life or death, that is. When you are married with children, dates mean something quite different. It still means life or death, but this time it is more literally the life or death of a crucial relationship; your marriage.
    I can not stress enough, how important alone time is with your spouse significant other the person who got you tied up in this mess in the first place. It took me a while for this lesson to sink in.Hell, who am I kidding? I fought it tooth and nail.But it has finally sunk in that my girls will be perfectly fine and not doomed to years of therapy or their imminent death just because I decide to have a night out with the big guy. They are in perfectly capable hands if I elect to leave them in the care of a trusted, thoroughly investigated caregiver (i.e. My Mom or my Mother in law~ baby steps people, baby steps!).

    Remember when you were single and a date was all about the what ifs and possibilities? What you wore? Where you went?Would you or wouldn’t you give up the goodies? His apartment or yours? Now, its actually about what it was always meant to be about… spending time alone with the other person.

    What will you wear? Who cares what you wear! Of course you want to look nice for your honey. Hell, smoking hot if you can pull it off! But keep in mind, he’s probably seen you give birth, and lets face it, there’s nowhere to go but up from there!

    Where will you go?  Seriously? Do we really care? As long as we are getting out of the house, alone, able to have an adult conversation across a table with one another, isn’t the rest all gravy? I mean, I’m sure usually when that happens, we end up somewhere gazing through a blur of exhaustion at one another thinking, “Holy shit it’s quiet in here. I sure could go for a nap but its so nice being alone with you baby! Instead, I’ll have a red bull and a vodka so I can stay up and enjoy our time together!”

    Will you or won’t you? Of course you will, provided the kids stay in their own beds ,the red bull and  vodka do their job and keep you awake, you can keep your eyes open after eating an entire warm meal in one sitting, and all the cuddling hasn’t relaxed you into a comma! I actually think, for couples with children, “dessert” before dinner is a good idea, if  you can swing it. You’d feel a lot sexier with an empty belly ( at least I know I would), plus it would be before the heavy, comforting meal, the dark theater  and the cuddling.Problem solved! Yes, the more I think of it, a little naughty before the nice date would be perfect.

    Who’s place? Obviously the home that you share.Pick a room, any room..it’s your house. If you’re really feeling adventurous, get a hotel for the evening, Sybaris anyone? Get your married freak on.You deserve it, damn it!

    Personally, the big guy and I have not yet made it to the Sybaris but let me tell you, the big guy spontaneously took me to a movie ( while we were visiting the in laws this past weekend). Grandma (trusted and thoroughly investigated caregiver..check)watched the girls. She even volunteered to sleep in the room with them so I could actually “Sleep” alone with the big guy ( because normally there are 2 little girls in the bed with us). Personally, I think Grandma is bucking  for that illusive Grandson ( barking up wrong tree Grandma). Hey, its a theory. Or perhaps I just really look like I need some alone time with the big guy. No matter the reason, it was fabulous. I even got to fall asleep in the big guys arms ( right next to him and everything…you co sleeper Mommies know exactly what I mean). I woke up well rested with a smile on my face. That was until Grandma looks over at me at breakfast and asks ( NOT in her indoor voice either) “Did you guys mess my sheets?” She was chuckling and I turned about 27 shades of red. I thought to myself, “I’ll never tell but I’m pretty sure I just shat myself!Thanks for asking!”  With that, the spell was broken! But it sure was nice while it lasted!

  • The illusive baby book

    Before my girls were ever born, in the very early stages of conception , I became obsessed with  chronicling every single thing they would ever do. There were the usual; first tooth, first time crawling, first time sleeping through the night, first solid food, first trip to Grandma’s..and so on and so forth. but were those other things that I just new I never wanted to forget too, first tantrum, first time they bit someone, first concert, first time they threw up on me, first time they danced with a Wiggle ( oh yeah, my girl got pulled up on the stage..it was very reminiscent of Courtney Cox and Bruce Springsteen but with hot potato and smashed banana…). There have been a lot of things I have recorded. But somewhere along the way, things went horribly wrong.
    The “baby Book” that I so painstakingly searched for and found after countless hours of searching the shelves of multiple bookstores has been forgotten. I mean its here. I know where it is….I think.Somehow it’s been reduced to random pieces of  paper, napkins, tissues with dates and occasions on them. To be honest, I am praying I wrote the year and the child because it may just be the action and the date. I was so in the moment that I never thought I’d forget the first day Bella laughed so hard that she blew milk out her nose, or the day 11 month old Gabs (I’m not 100% sure but I’m pretty sure, all the signs tell me) ingested shit. Let’s just say there was poop on her hands, and it looked like poop on her face. That’s all I’m saying. Yeah, I called the doctor..there was nothing they could do but tell me to keep an eye on her, give me a statistic about how 100% of all money has traces of human feces on it (EWWWW! I’m not sure if they were trying to make me feel better or worse), and I’m pretty sure they they made a mark somewhere  ( you know some special database accessible to DCFS….1 eff up you’re a dumb ass, 2 eff up’s they’re coming in and taking the kids away!) It was an accident people, if it even happened….which I’m not sure it did!
    Anyways, I digress ( as always). My point being, I have become accustomed to writing these little forget me not notes, or stashing tickets to their first movies, or a napkin from their birthday party because it was
    is going in the book at some not yet determined time in the near future . It’s gotten so bad that now, whenever anything happens my 5 year old promptly exclaims ” Hey , Mommy. You’re putting that in the baby book, right?” I’m really not sure if she is being facetious, or serious. Either way, it makes me feel like a rat..lower than a rat..like a flea on a rat.
    This weekend, I came to a life altering decision… I am going on a scavenger hunt. I am determined to find each and every single piece of tissue, toilet paper, napkin, scratch pad paper containing rogue information that I can find. When I do, I am going to bring that illusive Baby Book up to date. I plan to gather my randomly placed post it notes of my children’s life thus far and my scattered thoughts on the whole thing and put together the most effing awesome Baby Book to ever walk the face of the earth ( you know what I mean).  I’m thinking I may just have to arm myself with wine and water , lock myself in the basement with all the papers and power through and get it done. I wonder if they will ever know the depth and breadth to the sacrifices we make for them? That Silent Ninja Mommy assistant would be priceless right about now. Next on the agenda, the baby quilt I keep promising myself that I am making from their baby clothes. Also,with each passing day, my husbands ‘crazy’ idea that I log everything that happens in our children’s life into a file on the computer..seems to sound a lot better to me .

  • The heat is melting me & the ONLY cure is Ice Cream

    Not quite sure what the issue is but lately its been like a balmy 100 degrees of hell outside, and in addition to the Monica Barbados hair that I am sporting

    I feel like I am definitely melting. Well, I am surely sweating perspiring  glistening a lot! It’s pretty disgusting! But I’m not actually sweating my ass off ( if only that were possible because after the past two weeks I’d be giving Kate Moss a run for her money). No, in fact, I am pretty sure I am completely bloated. Is that even possible? Is that a THING..can humidity make you retain water? I’m serious, my money is on yes. I actually discussed  this with a girlfriend, who just happens to be a doctor, and we are pretty sure that there is a “THING” where women retain water during times of humidity.Well, anyways, that’s my story and I’d love to be able to stick to it.Of course, the inordinate amount of ice cream that I have been eating as a cure for the human melting heat, could also possibly be the culprit. Nah, it has to be the humidity!Right?

    Regardless, I am starting to feel like maybe I am resembling Ruby minus the red hair add the Monica!

    Damn ice cream! Damn heat! I know, I’m not actually anywhere near 617 lbs. or even her 300 lbs, that she has most recently been at, but this is what I feel like. This is my perspective. I don’t want to feel like this.

    So, what do you do when you feel frumpy? Lumpy? Gross? I’m pretty much sick to death of excuses..you know…. the ones I tell myself. Believe me, there are a thousand and 1 ‘reasons’ why I am a chunk but the real answer is…I’m not making myself a priority. I put everyone else’s needs above mine. I’ve tried once, last year, to take the bull by the horns..and it really made a difference. I made myself a priority in my own life and I actually felt ‘human’, like  I deserved to have time alone to mentally recoup and workout, to take the time needed to be a better me which made me a better Wife and Mommy. I spent time with my friends. I enjoyed life and felt like I was being a positive role model for my girls. I always conjure the image of turning into Gilbert Grape’s Mom, and how that effected her kids. Yes, I know..I am extreme!

    Of course, these things snow ball. I was on track, lost 25 lbs…the right way by exercise and portion control. I was over the moon and feeling like for once, I was in control. Sure, I’d lost weight before but I cheated. I’d either completely starve myself or I would eat a little and barf it all up. It worked, though I’m pretty lucky I have any teeth left in my head, that I didn’t have a heart attack, and that my esophagus survived the 8 year ordeal( Disclaimer: I stopped this behavior when I got engaged for fear my beloved would have dropped me like a hot potato if he had learned about that particular puke flavor of crazy. I did tell him about it….after I’d stopped. We’ve been married for 11 years, you do the math. Just didn’t want you all to be worried I was running off to the lieu barfing between key strokes). But last fall, my birthday present to myself was “ME”. Then over the holidays life happened, we had to move ( again), I lost my workout buddy ( my biggest cheerleader, my friend), my whole life was up-heaved and then I was stressed about money and our livelihood in general. Add to that my husband being away, the stress of being here all week with the girls while my husband is often out of town, and the uncertainty of it all. It completely threw me off of my “me” game. Now, I feel like such a loser and not like the BIGGEST LOSER in a good way but like an idiot who had the keys to the kingdom and lost them. You know, sorta like poor Kirstie Alley!

    I guess, I have to start prioritizing “me” again. If I don’t, who will? It’s my journey and no one else can take it for me. But my girls are eyewitnesses to my journey, their legacy….and I want it to be one worthy of them; deserving of me! I have to make an effort, make a schedule, make a list, sacrifice some sleep..whatever it takes! Because I know, I can not be happy feeling like this. I know that nobody’s perfect but right now I am not even close to being the best me that I can be. And I really feel like I need to be the best “ME” for me so that I can be a better “ME” for my girls. I want to show them to make themselves a priority! I want to show them what a happy,healthy, fulfilled person looks like! I want to teach them by example what it is like to feel comfortable in your own skin and to love your body and yourself. I want to show them to demand the same of everyone they know, because they are worth it. I want to show them..not tell them! So, please human melting heat go away; I can no longer take the cure! I need exercise, will power, a walking buddy, maybe a program and possibly a therapist..STAT!

     
    Decide carefully, exactly what you want in life, then work like mad to make sure you get it!
    Hector Crawford

  • Life is GOOD

    I sit here on this gorgeous Sunday summer morning, on my deck lounging as my girls play in their splash pool. I am surrounded by giggles as hues of bright white, sky blue and the warmth of the bright yellow sun dance all around me and to make it even more special my beautiful husband is in the same zip code with us.  As I am writing this post down, I think to myself “MY LIFE IS GOOD!”
    Today is such a relaxing day. It is quite a contrast to yesterday that was spent in a mad dash rushing from one place to the next. We sped around Navy Pier trying to take in ..everything. It was the first trip to the Pier for my girls and I wanted to make every moment count. The girls oohed and aahed at the boats in the lake, the stared in awe at the giant Ferris wheel and the hot air balloon looming overhead the crowd, as they chomped on their rock candy suckers that Daddy had purchased them. I do,however, think they were sufficiently terrified by the Chicago seagulls that were dive bomb attacking us in the sweltering heat. Nothing like 100 degree weather and the fear of bird shit to get your kids moving in a hasty manner. Our trip to the Pier was cut short by the heat but as always sometimes life’s most expected happiness comes when you are least expecting it.

    We decided to head to my sister’s home to spend the day with her and her beautiful family. My girls were ecstatic to spend the day with their little cousin, my adorable Godson. Gabs especially loves it because she feels like she gets to be the “big sister” when he’s around. Its so adorable how she coddles and guides him, ever the protective maternal force:) (thank God he doesn’t mind..for now).

    I was looking forward to spending some quality time chatting with my own “little ” sister. These moments seem to be so few and far between these days with us living in different areas and having families of our own. The big guy, he looks forward to spending “man” time with my Brother in law; sampling exotic beers, driving fast cars and swapping tall tales..(yeah, just like Pecos BILL:) And all of us look forward to eating the glorious Serbian/Romanian feast my sister’s Mother in law prepares for us with love and enthusiasm (seriously, that woman has a gift when it comes to cooking and baking).
    What started out as a day full of sights to see turned into a day of making wonderful family memories. It was wonderful sitting around the splash pool at my sister’s house, enjoying one another’s company and the, seldom had these days, face to face conversation while our children embraced their time together.

    My sister and I shared memories of our own childhood and acted as our childrens very own paparazzi. There is something magical about being able to speak to someone who has known you your whole entire life and knows every single thought and word you may have before you even open your mouth. It may have not seemed like anything special to the general onlooker but the day with my little sister was priceless. We are no longer little girls, we will always be sisters but we choose to be friends; and my sisters’ friendships mean more to me than they will ever know.

    But as all good things must, our day had to come to an end. There were overtired tears from the children who absolutely did not want to part. The dull feeling of melancholy that accompanies every goodbye between loved ones began to slowly creep into the room. As we kissed and hugged and kissed and hugged once more, we made our usual tentative plans to see each other again soon ( this happens so often between  family members and friends living out of town) and we believe with all of our hearts that this time will be different. The drive wasn’t that bad, the day was so great,and  so on and so forth.
    All the way home, I assured myself that “this” time our promise and plans were different, this time things will be different (reminiscent of every diet I have ever failed).Unfortunately, more than likely, life will get in the way of our plans and more time will end up passing than either of us had intended. But yesterday, life was good! Love you lil Sis!

  • 1st Annual Blog Bash

    Blog Bash

    First, to introduce myself, I am known as Truthful Mommy ( because I am painfully honest) but I also answer to Mommy(kids), Babe(husband), Honey(Mom), Sugar(Grandma), Sexy, (Eric from True Blood…in my dreams) and occasionally Debi. I am a 37 year old Mommy to two amazing little girls, Bella and Gabi, who are simultaneously my heaven and occasional sources of hell on earth. I am married to my college sweetheart and we just celebrated our 11th anniversary.
    Random facts, I am equally addicted to  my children, my husband, my Iphone, my computer,and my camera…not necessarily in that order! If I could do anything in the world, I’d have the exact same life but my husband would not  have to live in another state for work (maybe he could co stay home with me:), money would not be an ever present thought, and I could write for a living while traveling the world with my husband and girls; experiencing the languages, cultures,religions, and beauty of the world.
    I have finally realized what I want to do with my life, or rather just decided to have the guts to pursue it. It only took 37 years! I always knew that I wanted to be a Mommy ( I come from a family of 6 brothers and sisters) but the rest I’ve thought I knew but its changed over the years. I think, my entire life has brought me to this point and prepped me to embark on this journey to pursue my dreams with passion, enthusiasm and a no failure attitude and  to exhaust all avenues of potential afforded to me. It’s go big or go home! I’m not  a quitter, so I’m making my declaration of reaching for the stars!

    1.) Why do you blog? 

    I blog because I am a writer and my dream is to either have a column, a book, or both and in the end.. My dream is to follow in the footsteps of Dooce, Motherhood Uncensored, Finslippy,  and the Pioneer Woman!

    2.) What do you blog about? 
    I blog about what I know; my life, Motherhood, as I know it, being a wife and a woman. I try to do it all with honesty and openness because there is nothing I hate more than women making other women feel shitty about not being perfect. If I can make 1 woman feel like she is not alone in the trenches of Motherhood, and if I can do that through letting her laugh at me or see my flaws, I feel like I have exceeded my hopes!
    3.) What do you find to be the biggest reward you get from blogging?
    The biggest reward I have gotten from blogging is a surprising one. As I said, I started this blog as a means to an end ; a way to chronicle my girls as they grow up and the emotions, feelings, and enormity of all that Motherhood and this time of my life encompasses but also as a way to hone my skill in writing. In addition to these things,the reward I have actually gotten that means the most is the community of readers that I have had the pleasure of meeting. I thought I’d be helping other women through their difficult days but, through my honesty in my posts, I have gained a community of support and friendship that helps me get through the difficult days! Thanks Ladies ( and a couple brave gentlemen)!
    4.) How long have you been blogging? 
    I started my blog in May of 2009 at the urging of a friend of mine who is  a professional writer. She told me that it would be a great way to build my writing portfolio and fine tune my skills. Then life happened, we moved, and I didn’t get back to it full time until we moved again in February of 2010. So I guess I have been blogging full time for about 6 months but had my site up and running for 6 months previous to that.
    5.) Let’s hear the story behind your blog title! 🙂 
    The Story behind my blog title “The TRUTH about Motherhood” is that I want to give it to women straight. I am a no holds  barred, straight shooting Mommy who doesn’t sugar coat the bad days, but I also don’t hold back on the good ones. I read every book I could get my hands on before I actually had my first baby, but in the end nothing prepared me for the reality of pregnancy, labor, delivery, and Motherhood in all of its glory.  I want to change that. I want women  to have a place where they can come and read my truth ( which is likely very similar to theirs) not the truth according to Bree Van de Kamp! 

    Happy Mothering!
  • First Ever FAWK You FRIDAY

    BWS tips button

    Fawk you to the excruciatingly miserable heat! Hey Heat, you suck! I’m melting and frizzing up over here..NOT COOL! Thank God I get to take my family to a baseball heat stroke  game tonight. It shouldbe ever so pleasant melting out under the lights.

    Fawk you to being chunky! This goes hand in hand with the heat, chunky in the heat = A very unhappy Mommy! Sweaty kids hanging on a already glistening Mommy , not my idea of family fun time.

    Fawk you to me for not doing the exercise I was supposed to do this week.If I had, maybe I wouldn’t be so dang hot right now. But in my defense, I am pretty sure I would have had a heat stroke and died had I tried to do Turbo Jam in this weather. Then what would have become of my poor sweaty children? They would have been left to their own devices …bathing in the pool as my carcas rotted on the living room floor until my husband made it back in town on Friday. So ,really, its not my fault at all!

    Fawk you to the 133 million under cover cops that are patroling the highways this weekend.I’ve got people to see and places to go, you are only slowing me down and making things a wee bit more dangerous when I have to drive constantly watching my rear view mirror.

    Fawk you to stupid people ( damn heat induced grouchy attitude) ! But let me be honest, I have no tolerance for stupid people especially when I am in line at Walmart trying to buy some hot dogs and wine for tomorrows lunchtime bbq! Don’t jugdge me…I just realized how incredibly redneck that sentence made me sound. I actually made the remark about how redneck I felt buying hotdogs and wine at WALMART while in line there. The brain trust behind the register, obviously, did not see the humor in it. So, FAWK her too!

  • Truthful Tuesday: EFF YOU Tuesday, I heart you!

    I am not a passive person, so when life is holding my happiness hostage and  hurling lemons at my head …I rant , rave and buck crazy. Today is one of those days and I really need to work through this frustration so I am going to list all of my grievances here, to get them off my shoulders ( so my head doesn’t explode)! If you don’t go for that sort of thing..stop now. Look away! I don’t want a post full of rage and anger so I am going to substitute the word “heart” for “hate” all throughout this post. You know in the spirit of turning my God damn (sorry but its just that frigging serious) frown upside down and all that shit! So be prepared, and feel free to expunge yourself here after I have finished my tirade! Happy Mothering my fellow POW’s!

    • I heart my husband being gone and me being alone!
    • I heart that my kids are acting like complete uncontrollable maniacs!
    • I heart that I am losing my cool and can’t handle it all.
    • I heart stupid ass people.
    • I heart waiting on others,for example, the people who interviewed my husband about a new job. I can not stand placing my forever in someone else’s power (its the impatient control freak in me).
    • I heart feeling fat.
    • I heart exercise, even more!
    • I heart never getting to see my friends.
    • I heart that we moved and moved back with not much say in it.
    • I heart that I got to see how my life could be only to have it taken away!
    • I heart that that bothers me so much.
    • I heart feeling envious of anyone.
    • I heart that bad things happen to good people; for example, good people dying young or little babies getting cancer.
    • I heart complainers; so I am hearting myself right now, a little bit!
    • I heart people who don’t know me at all pushing their unsolicited opinions on how I am suppose to feel (I’m referring to people in real life who don’t know me, have never read me, and don’t care about who I am or how I feel not y’all. You people get me!).Thanks..I  really need other people to tell me what I am supposed to feel when they have never taken 1 step in my shoes.
    • I heart perpetual cleaning! Seriously, is it impossible for a house with children in it to stay the least bit lean?
    • I heart all the dog shit in my backyard…Dog, can you please stop shitting so much? Don’t I have enough asses to wipe inside the house?
    • I heart being broke! It’s fabulous and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. It’s so awesome having to decide what to do with that extra $10 in your account..I’m voting for cheap wine!
    • I heart finally knowing what I want out of life and having to depend on others  to achieve it.
    • I heart feeling old on days like this.
    • I heart feeling like such a shitty Mom, and not having enough hours in the day to do better!
    • Mostly, I heart that I just broke down in front of all of you. Now that I’ve shattered your image of calm, cool, collected me, please feel welcome to share what you heart today!
  • MIne, Mine….all mine!

    My daughters have a lot of things. Lots of clothes, toys, gizmos  and gadgets. Between their Father and I trying to provide them with all that they want, myself not being able to pass up cute matching outfits, and Grandparents spoiling them rotten..well, they have acquired a lot of really cute shit in their short time with us.
    I have problems parting with some it for several reasons. These are some of the ways I rationalize hoarding all this stuff; I may have another one (probably not but just in case), they wore that on this day and it was so special,  Great Grandma so and so gave that to them from the old country, I will never find that again and the minute I part with it I’ll need it, it was mine when I was little, the person who gave it to them loves them so much I don’t want to hurt their feelings by getting rid of it. All of these reasons and a few more keep my house chalked full of kids crap. It looks like Babys R Us and Toys R Us had a baby and it lives at my house. Now, I did try and part with some( not much)  of it last year in our neighborhood garage sale. Of course, I wanted to beat the people over the head with a hammer who had the audacity to try to haggle the already low prices of my children’s baby years. Didn’t they realize the bargain they were getting ? And how many hours I had labored over the decision to part with any of it? Heartless bastards! But I did it. Now, there are things I refuse to part with because I want to pass down to their children or I will make a part of the quilt that I swear I will make both of them with special baby clothes that I hold the dearest, despite the fact that I have absolutely no idea how to quilt. On these items, my mind is made up.
    The annual garage sale is coming up and my MIL has been all up my ass probing to ask : “Have you got all your stuff around?” Me: (in my mind) “NO!! Who said I was parting with one more stitch of my childrens past??? Heartless bitch!!” Then there is my Mom, who I adore , but if she says one more time ” WOW! I can’t believe all of the stuff your sister is going to get when she has a little girl (implying somehow that I am required to just hand over all of my girls’ stuff). Oh yeah, and my sister says the same thing. Might I add, she is not even pregnant nor is she in any stage of getting pregnant..she’s just calling dibs!
    Seriously, why do they think this? They didn’t buy it for me in the first place, what the hell makes them think I am obliged to give it to them? Secondly, who made this rule that just because I have it, I gotta give it to them? It’s like they think after I have already invested all the time and money, to make sure everything was just so fro my girls, I should just make it easy on them and hand it all over. I know I sound crazy but this is a sore spot for me. It would be like me walking into my Mom’s house and saying, “Wow! When you bite it, I’m gonna be one lucky bitch!” WTF??? Call me crazy, but when the hell did everyone else get the right to tell me when and how to dispose of my babies memories? I may just hold on to all this shit until my girls have their own children. I may have to add a second floor to store it all but that’s my prerogative. And I swear to God, if one more person gives me the “WOW! So and so is going to be so lucky to get all your shit”, I may just punch them square in their throat! See how easy it is to stake your claim on my stuff then!