I'm so sorry your clothes are clean...

Who knew being efficient was a bad thing?

Here is a snip-it of a near daily conversation between Brad and myself...

Brad- " Where are my pajama pants?"
Me- "The ones you left of the floor near the dirty clothes pile? Those are in the drier."
Brad- " Grumble, grumble....darn you and your efficiency!"

Apparently, I should decipher better which clothes amongst the ones strewn about the floor on Brad's side of the bedroom are actually in need of laundering. Forget the fact that the dirty clothes pile is a few feet away, his clothes (other then work clothes) rarely find their way there. But Murphy's Law would take over if I started sorting based on my opinion of what Brad was thinking when he took this clothes off; if I left the PJ pants then he would get a new pair without looking for yesterday's and if I washed them well then he'd want to wear them again.

I wear clothes more then once before I wash them. But I lay those clothes on my dresser- NOT on the floor. The floor is where the dog lays, it is not where I think "clean" clothes go.

Perhaps the answer to my problem is simply that I need to get that load of laundry back upstairs, folded, and put away before Brad gets home from work ( maybe even toss his PJ pants back to the floor clean then pick them up if he chooses a different pair). Or perhaps Brad should remember the days when I sucked at laundry and didn't do it until there was a mountain over taking the basement. Ya know, when he'd have to look the night before to see if he would even have clean clothes for work. Or when the laundry was run but left in a wrinkled pile in the basement and he'd have to make time to tumble them every morning. Yes, he should definitely remember those days!

And seriously Brad, if you really need that one specific pair of PJ pants, then just go get them out of the drier... it isn't like I said they are in the WASHER!

Finger Weights

I have been working my butt off for months to lose some inches around my waist. I started out in a good weight range for my height but right at the top which just isn't me. I'm the skinny girl. Okay so I haven't been "the skinny girl" in say 7 years, but that is how I was defined for so long that when I no longer was "the skinny girl" a huge part of what made me me was suddenly gone. So after quite a bit of procrastinating I jumped aboard the get fit wagon.

 (lets totally pretend this flat stretch  mark free belly belongs to me- oh wait, that tape measure says 46inches!!!! Um I'll keep my stretch marks thank you!)

In a little over two months I have lost 13 pounds (Go me!). I have been counting every calorie and hitting the gym nearly every day. But are these 13 pounds coming off from where I want them to the most, the inter tube around my waist? Not really. Okay well I guess a teeny bit. My jeans are loose but not so loose that they won't stay up and I need to drop a size.

Where has my body decided to take the pounds off of you ask.... well my fingers of course. And why not, becasue frankly everyone wants to lose some finger weight. So far in my journey there is no new clothes shopping- but rings, yep those will have to be resized.

It seems as though treadmill and elliptical workouts equal finger fat dissolution so maybe putting my fingers to work by blogging like a mad woman my waist will lose a few inches. That is good logic right?

World War Blue

I walk in to the bathroom and flip on the light. Sticky, I suddenly feel sticky. Flush the toilet, more stickiness. I turn the sink on to wash my hands and you''ll never guess it, but yep, more stickiness. As I look down there they are- the blue smears of a war. One which my bathroom has obviously lost. After I wash my hands a second time- becasue yep, turning the water off re-stickified my fingers (yes, I'm sure that is a word, from my own personal dictionary)... anyways, re washing- then, I go to dry my hands. To my dismay when I pull my hands away they are covered more so then ever in blue goo. One of my brilliant children has decided to use the back of the towel to wipe a massive amount of goo off of something...


But I live with 3 children ( and Brad) so messes like this don't get to me that easily. I wash my hands yet again then head to the cupboard to get out the cleaner and paper towel. And what else do I find but another place to make my hands sticky....

Toothpaste... a necessity, but man sometimes I wish it wasn't. But I can hear that conversation in my head already.... What is the matter Mr. Dentist? What? It doesn't look like they've been brushing their teeth? Gee I have NO idea why... couldn't be because I have banned toothpaste from the early humans in my house.... (early humans- guess you gotta see Little Fockers to get the reference). But really the way the bathroom looks I do wonder if any of the toothpaste actually makes it into their mouths.

Everytime I send those 3 monkeys to brush their teeth it is as if I did actually send monkeys... well ones that don't throw poo but toothpaste instead.

I understand that it is a big tube and the target is small, sometime you squeeze just a little harder then intended... but really, why oh why does it get as bad as it does in there on a near daily basis? And why do I keep buying them BLUE toothpaste? At least white would blend in with the counter... Ah, but there are so many different colors of the surfaces they cover with blue sticky goo that color just doesn't matter.

Part of me thinks this is my children's way of forcing me to buy the Touch and Brush that they hype up in commercials. But I am certain if I bought it, well it would be just one more surface for me to de-blueify.

My bathroom may lose the Blue War nightly. But My Clorox bleach spray and I, well we win it.... someday the war will end. And I certain that when it does I will be victorious with or without the Touch and Brush....

Seriously, Mommy is not trying to kill you!

From the second us mothers know there is a baby in our belly we become protectors. We change our lives for the good of this tiny human.

The changes are numerous- our diet, our daily activities, our clothing (ya know not wearing those heels that are just asking for a fall), we take vitamins and read books about every possible thing that could (and we think will) go wrong. We search endlessly for the perfect Dr and visit him/her as often as possible. We screen for more what ifs. Then we begin the researching and shopping. We buy safety items for every inch of our home. We check recall lists, avoiding hand me downs becasue surely it isn't safe, especially if some other baby has used it and not been injured or died.

Then this little person is born and a whole new set of worries comes along. Wash your hands don't touch the baby! Don't bounce him too hard, make sure you burp him just right. Are they eating enough? Too much? And of course the constant need to go check on this little person if they sleep for more then 10 mins. Poke, poke, are you breathing???? What was that a little cough? It doesn't matter if it is the middle of the night, I better call the Dr.

So why is it then that these miniature people repay our worry by acting like we are out to kill, injure, maim, and torture them at any given moment????

The Bathtub- Just look up honey, I swear if you look up the shampoo won't get into your eyes. Nope. No way, not gonna do it. Okay so how about you lay back in the tub and I'll hold your head to get the shampoo out.... Nope, you'll drown me, I'm sure of it... you won't hold my head... nope....Seriously child of mine....

The vacuum- a child death machine of course, that is why we use it don't you know. Yep, run baby girl becasue I am going to suck you up. I've spent near 4 years taking care of your every need, feeding you when I was too sick to get my own food, comforting you at night when I haven't had a decent nights sleep in weeks but what the heck- lets end it all now- with a vacuum....

Nail clippers- yes, I want to cut your toes off so I have to carry you around the house for the rest of your life, that sounds fun.

Toothbrushes- secretly these are made to slowly scrape your gums away until your teeth fall out.

Homework- this is our favorite form of torture- why? Oh becasue it is one that tortures us right along with you.

The list goes on and on... I know my kids love me, I know they trust me. But there are just some crazy fears that seem to supersede all the trust. I guess it is like when you are in the car with your husband, he is driving and you are freaking out becasue you know- he IS trying to kill all of you.

My Post Secret

This may not seem like a big deal to you, but it is to me....

I have stopped may daily ritual of reading the obituaries. It started when I was a kid. I guess it was the faces in the paper that drew my attention. That and I adored my grandma and she was always reading the obituaries, though she had a purpose, her friends were actually dying.

For a long while I didn't get the paper so I had " kicked the habit." Then came the internet (dun, dun, dun). My habit began again, but not daily...more like an "I'm bored lets see who died kinda thing" (hush, it makes sense to me!). I have no idea what my fascination is. The first thing I do is browse over the names and then I always look at the person's age. If they are above 70, I browse it over real quick. The younger they are the more intently I read. Sometimes the crazy person in me even put their name into the facebook search. Why, again I have no idea, I think it is well established I am a crazy person!

Anyways, after my dad died the whole ritual took on a new purpose. I couldn't miss a day of obituaries, not one. If I did then lucky me, you can search past dates, and I would. I'm a little embarrassed to say why I had to search the obituaries but here is where I let it out.... post my secret....

Drunk Driver- everyday since you killed my dad I have searched the obits for your name. When I found out you moved to a new city/state, well I started daily watching the obits there....


I don't know what I thought I'd find, relief perhaps? Probably just hoping justice would finally be served.

But I am happy to say that this is no longer my secret. Not only becasue I just told you but becasue I've stopped looking. One more tie that this man had over me is gone.

I am Free!

Dropping the ball. Errr, the soap!

I was in the shower and had a realization.... Yes, one that I can share without a TMI moment... but not quite yet. First I must pick on my Brad a bit. It isn't his favorite past time of mine but he knows it is all in love so here goes....

Like all men, my husband is oblivious. Oblivious to the laundry basket 2 inches from where he tosses his clothes, oblivious to the dishwasher sitting open after dinner waiting for plates to be fed to it, and oblivious to the child reaching for something that he just can't reach when he is again only 2 inches away. But I guess that is a gender trait- I can't fault him for it ( though I do becasue really IT IS TWO INCHES FROM YOU!!!!) I digress....

Unexpectedly, while I was in the shower I came to a realization. There are a few things, okay probably many, that I am unaware of  but are on his radar  (however, since I am perfect, everything is on my radar so I don't know what crazy I am talking : P )

Anyways, I never have to replace the soap- there is always a bar there when I go to take a shower, always. It made me think, what else in the house is just always there for me without me having to make sure it is... I came up with nothing. I'd like to joke here that my husband can do nothing but remember to change the soap. And then make another witty comment about how it is he still manages to be a stinky man when he does such a good job with the soap. Or maybe something about how  his own stink is what reminds him to get soap but I won't.... see I didn't type a thing about that!

What I will say is that I know for a fact, being the perfectionist that I think I am, I often overlook the small things Brad does for us or even the big things that I don't think are done the way I would do them. So I'll work on it Brad, I promise. Everyday when I am in the shower with my bar of soap, the one that I didn't have to be responsible for, I'll be reminded. So don't forget the soap! Because that I will surely notice!

To friend or not to friend....

I'm ready for summer to be over. I do prefer it to winter but I also love Fall oh so very much. And then there is that other summer thing- the kids home ALL day. Summer is that enjoyable yet unenjoyable time of year. Not to mention during summer I am isolated to the house or shaded areas thanks to my skin revolting against the sun... I seriously think I am so white I am glowing now...

But back to the kids- don't get me wrong I want to see my kids and I miss them when they are gone all the time with school and such but the craziness and monotony (yes, I know those are contradictory)of them here all day every day for months makes me a little crazy.

My schedule is off- I don't seem to keep up on cleaning as easily as when they are gone. Hmmm, might that have something to do with them being here trashing the house non-stop? It is defeating to clean a room and then within the hour find the more things all over again. Dinner goes in spurts of cooking and not- it is hard to plan dinner in advance when you don't know who will actually be in attendance for said meal.

Then there is the constant flow of kids in my house. And yes, IN- becasue for some reason I can't get my kids OUT of the house. I think perhaps I need to keep a less cushy home! I'm sure this is sounding like I don't want the kids friends over but that is NOT what I mean. I don't care if they are here most of the time as long as everyone is getting along.

It is just the quick run to the store isn't possible unless I send everyone home, and what a pain that is. Plus then my kids are whining becasue they just want to play and here I am dragging them to run errands. I'll have plans for the kids and myself, then a friend calls and suddenly no one wants my plan anymore, they want friends over. Maybe I am just sad they are picking friends over me?

I'm not sure why I can't say no to the constant playdates. Probably becasue in some ways it is just easier. Easier then listening to them whine about not having anything to do or why they can't play with so and so (yep, my kids friends are named so and so!) And easier then entertaining them all day on my own. I am not a get down on the floor and play with you kind of parent.

The kids summer wishlist is sadly unaccomplished. And mostly becasue friends are always here or one of my kids is gone with a friend. I guess I could figure out how to include friends in the plans but why is some family time too much to ask for? I think back to my childhood- my parents didn't make summer plans with me. Heck, I hardly even saw my parents. I spent the entire summer outside or at a friends from when I woke up until I went to bed. I'm not sure how I would have felt about plans with my parents but I think I would have been thrilled. Maybe my kids have it too good- I am too available to them. But is that even possible? To be too available? I think not. Perhaps I am projecting my childhood dreams onto my children?

So even though my kids are choosing friends over our wishlist I somehow feel guilty for not having them accomplish it anyways. I had visions of them reading and working on more school work all summer as well- but then as soon as we wake up someone is here, nothing gets done.... I didn't do school work during the summer so do they really need to? I think the problem is I am pretty good at putting myself in other people's shoes and seeing it from their point of view so I can logically see the kids POV for wanting friends over and skipping the reading. Then yes, I can see the teacher POV telling me what a disadvantage I am doing to my kids. Then back to the kids POV- what a disadvantage I am doing to them not letting them have this summer memories and build strong bonds with their friends...

Oh I could ramble on and on.... I'll stop.... I'm certain there is something I need to clean- oh and shockingly there is a kids argument going on and someone is crying.... I think it is ship you outside and lock the door time!