That's right. I said it. Exhausty. Not like a car. Like a Mommy who has either been taking care of sick people in her house or been sick herself for the past 3 weeks! Seriously.
First Baby Girl had an ear infection, then we all got Hand, Foot and Mouth. (Now that's a party! You haven't really lived until your daughter has oozing blisters all over her body and canker sores that are each over an inch wide in her mouth. Awesome.) Next, Baby Girl had surgery to have tubes put in her ears, a great time, spectacular really. Later that week Mommy and baby puked their guts out for a few days. And then, to round it all off, The Hubs brought home a gnarly (Yup, I'm pulling out the big slang guns for this bad boy) head cold that he so kindly passed to me. It has nearly devastated my existence.
Let me just say, if we do not have a break from all of this CRAP fairly soon-ish, I am going to lose it! I don't really know what "it" is or if I ever really had "it," but I can guarantee you, "it" will be so gone.
Have I mentioned that we drive 109 miles ONE WAY to take Baby Girl to her Dr appts? Or that last week we took her to the regular Dr twice, the emergency room once and then back to the hospital 4 days later for surgery??? No? Oh, well we did. Do the math. Its something like 872 miles. And that's just miles heading from this little podunk town to the slightly bigger (but much better) town down the highway. It doesn't count the much needed driving around the city (aka: civilization) once we are there. Little things like stopping at Target and hitting up Starbucks since we don't have those where we live. Told you our town was small.
Now, I don't want to sound too complainy. (Yup, went there too.) After all, there are a few Dr's here in town we could take her to. But, we think medical care should not be something you have to wait on for hours or even days, which is often the case with Dr's here in Podunkville. I just wish that instead of having to drive that far, Baby Girl would be healthy and happy! Its my prayer and I'm clinging to it now as I lay her down for bed.
Oh look, she has a fever. Excellent. Sigh
I should have called my blog "The Exhausty Life of Mommy."
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
Love.
I am unashamedly sappy at times, I'll admit it gladly. But tonight I am struck with the notion that this is it. This is what life's all about. Love. Loving your husband. Laughing with him. Adoring this precious little person that the Lord has entrusted you with. Living with the knowledge that you are so so blessed to have people around you that make life, well, good. Some spend years searching for the "meaning of life" when to me it is beyond simple. Love. Love the Lord Jesus Christ. Love your family. And love those around you.
This is living.
Love is hearing your daughter's squeals of laughter, high pitched and pure, as your husband tickles her and chases her around the house.
I could never have hoped for a more patient and loving father for my child. And I truly believe that this little person we are raising is, literally, the most beautiful creature to have ever graced the Earth. (I'm not biased or anything. I swear.)
Love is when your baby girl says, "Mommmeee!" before any other word in the morning.
How ironic it is that I often hold my breath in anticipation of the sound of my name in the morning. I am anxious to see her after 10 hours without her.
Love is picking up your sleeping girl after a trying day and holding her while she sleeps.
There is nothing more healing for the heart of a Mommy than holding your sleeping child. No amount of "me time" (though, I'll admit "me time" is still VERY necessary once in a while) could do as much good as 5 minutes of holding this precious girl while she is still. While she is at peace; quiet and precious.
Love is looking at your husband and still seeing the sweet 14 year old boy you fell for.
Today I was struck, once again, with how deeply this man loves our baby girl and me. I truly love him more today than I did the day I married him (I know it's cliche, but cliche is good when its the truth.)
I love my little family. They are everything good and beautiful.
Ok, enough with the sap. My next blog will be full of cynicism and sarcasm once again. Promise.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Things You Should Never Have to Say.
Having a toddler, I often find myself in situations where I am saying things that would never normally come out of my mouth. Sometimes I have to stop and just take a moment to appreciate all the wonderful Mommy-isms that I yell out at any given moment. Here are a few of them:
"We don't eat things we find on the sidewalk."
"Please, stop coloring on the furniture/floor/walls/dogs."
"Let's not lick the floor."
"We don't put our feet on the table."
"Please, stop screaming at the nice waitress."
"We don't kick Daddy in the face."
"Can we not squish crackers into the couch?"
"I don't think Daddy wants you to do that with his toothbrush."
"It's not nice to hit our friends in the face with hot wheels."
"Good job for putting on your shoes! Now, can we put them on your feet instead?"
"We don't rub our face on the hospital waiting room floor."
"Where did you get gum and who pre-chewed it for you?"
"It's not nice to scream in our friends' faces."
"Let's not poo in the bathtub."
"We don't put our fingers in the puppy's nose."
"Please, don't throw things at Mommy."
"What is that in your mouth?"
"Look at my face, we don't stand on the puppy's head."
"You can't just eat macaroni and crayons for dinner."
"If you jump on my couch one more time I will fling you off it."
"Please, take Mommy's panties off of your head."
"We have to wear clothes when we go into public."
"Put the poop down!"
"Don't put your hands in there."
"Get your finger out of it!"
"Don't step in it either!"
"The puppies' water dish is not a swimming pool."
"Bananas belong in our mouth, not between our toes."
"Please, stop pushing over Mommy's laundry."
"Please, put the laundry down."
"No, let's not step on the laundry either, ok?"
"Oh, does that tantrum mean it's naptime???"
"Mommy doesn't want a kiss until you let her wipe your nose."
"I know you can hear me."
"Mommy loves you, why do you want her to go crazy?"
You all know that if I were talking to an adult that person would either be mentally handicapped or a gigantic jerk. However, she is only 1, and she is just cute enough to make it all worth while. :)
"We don't eat things we find on the sidewalk."
"Please, stop coloring on the furniture/floor/walls/dogs."
"Let's not lick the floor."
"We don't put our feet on the table."
"Please, stop screaming at the nice waitress."
"We don't kick Daddy in the face."
"Can we not squish crackers into the couch?"
"I don't think Daddy wants you to do that with his toothbrush."
"It's not nice to hit our friends in the face with hot wheels."
"Good job for putting on your shoes! Now, can we put them on your feet instead?"
"We don't rub our face on the hospital waiting room floor."
"Where did you get gum and who pre-chewed it for you?"
"It's not nice to scream in our friends' faces."
"Let's not poo in the bathtub."
"We don't put our fingers in the puppy's nose."
"Please, don't throw things at Mommy."
"What is that in your mouth?"
"Look at my face, we don't stand on the puppy's head."
"You can't just eat macaroni and crayons for dinner."
"If you jump on my couch one more time I will fling you off it."
"Please, take Mommy's panties off of your head."
"We have to wear clothes when we go into public."
"Put the poop down!"
"Don't put your hands in there."
"Get your finger out of it!"
"Don't step in it either!"
"The puppies' water dish is not a swimming pool."
"Bananas belong in our mouth, not between our toes."
"Please, stop pushing over Mommy's laundry."
"Please, put the laundry down."
"No, let's not step on the laundry either, ok?"
"Oh, does that tantrum mean it's naptime???"
"Mommy doesn't want a kiss until you let her wipe your nose."
"I know you can hear me."
"Mommy loves you, why do you want her to go crazy?"
You all know that if I were talking to an adult that person would either be mentally handicapped or a gigantic jerk. However, she is only 1, and she is just cute enough to make it all worth while. :)
I have a confession to make.
I have to confess, the term "Domestic Goddess" is deceiving. Though I'd like to think I make it all look easy; managing a house, cooking, cleaning, taking care of a 1 year old, 2 dogs and a husband, there are times that I can admit I fail. Epically.
Sometimes this Goddess comes frighteningly close to losing it. There are times, often more than once in a day, that I look around and thing Mommy needs a vacation. Like tonight, it had been a great day. Baby Girl took a nice long nap, I cleaned the floors and did some laundry and even had time to lay down for a bit myself. Hubs was at work, Mommy was feeding, bathing and cleaning up after Baby Girl and the dogs were lazing about the living room like most evenings. I had just taken Baby Girl out of the bathtub, diapered her and set her on the carpet to play. As I went to the kitchen to get her a cup I heard her frantic cry, "Mommeeee! Mommmeeee! Mommmeeeee!!!" I came back into the tidy room I had just left to see that it had been transformed in an instant to the Room of Horror. Neon green diarrhea, the likes of which were eerily reminiscent to a scene from The Exorcist, covered her hands, feet, legs and a large portion of my 5x7' rug. (On a side note, leak guard??? Ok, Pampers, can we be a little more honest? How about, our diapers sometimes hold in all the pee!) She is holding her arms out to me like she wants me to pick her up?!? I think to myself No Way!!! I am NOT touching you! Who is going to clean this up??? Then it occurs to me, I AM Mommy! There's no one here to do this but me!!!
Sighing, I grip her by the arms and run back to the bathtub while she screams "Nooooo! Mommy!!!" (The only two words that she says with perfect clarity.) As I'm running and she is dripping down the hall I look over my shoulder to see my black lab LICKING THE CARPET where my daughter has JUST CRAPPED! I should have expected it. It shouldn't have even phased me. But there I stood in momentary shock as I witnessed what had to be one of the most disturbing sights of my life. I can almost hear my sister saying, "This is why I hate animals!" Grabbing the nearest object (a tube of toothpaste) I whip it down the hall at the unsuspecting animal screaming, "BIMMER!!! NO!!!" He looks up at me with clueless eyes as poo flings from his mouth and across my floor, the floor that I had JUST cleaned!
It was at this moment I thought to myself "Domestic Goddess" is such a deceptive term. More like "Domestic Asylum Patient" or "That Woman We Once Knew That Went Crazy." You see, Dear Readers, I am not a Domestic Goddess in any real sense of the word. I am, however, entitled to call myself whatever the poo I want. This is, after all, my blog. And you all know that you should never argue with the woman who just scrubbed diarrhea out of her carpet, and then dog vomit out of it 10 minutes later...
Sometimes this Goddess comes frighteningly close to losing it. There are times, often more than once in a day, that I look around and thing Mommy needs a vacation. Like tonight, it had been a great day. Baby Girl took a nice long nap, I cleaned the floors and did some laundry and even had time to lay down for a bit myself. Hubs was at work, Mommy was feeding, bathing and cleaning up after Baby Girl and the dogs were lazing about the living room like most evenings. I had just taken Baby Girl out of the bathtub, diapered her and set her on the carpet to play. As I went to the kitchen to get her a cup I heard her frantic cry, "Mommeeee! Mommmeeee! Mommmeeeee!!!" I came back into the tidy room I had just left to see that it had been transformed in an instant to the Room of Horror. Neon green diarrhea, the likes of which were eerily reminiscent to a scene from The Exorcist, covered her hands, feet, legs and a large portion of my 5x7' rug. (On a side note, leak guard??? Ok, Pampers, can we be a little more honest? How about, our diapers sometimes hold in all the pee!) She is holding her arms out to me like she wants me to pick her up?!? I think to myself No Way!!! I am NOT touching you! Who is going to clean this up??? Then it occurs to me, I AM Mommy! There's no one here to do this but me!!!
Sighing, I grip her by the arms and run back to the bathtub while she screams "Nooooo! Mommy!!!" (The only two words that she says with perfect clarity.) As I'm running and she is dripping down the hall I look over my shoulder to see my black lab LICKING THE CARPET where my daughter has JUST CRAPPED! I should have expected it. It shouldn't have even phased me. But there I stood in momentary shock as I witnessed what had to be one of the most disturbing sights of my life. I can almost hear my sister saying, "This is why I hate animals!" Grabbing the nearest object (a tube of toothpaste) I whip it down the hall at the unsuspecting animal screaming, "BIMMER!!! NO!!!" He looks up at me with clueless eyes as poo flings from his mouth and across my floor, the floor that I had JUST cleaned!
It was at this moment I thought to myself "Domestic Goddess" is such a deceptive term. More like "Domestic Asylum Patient" or "That Woman We Once Knew That Went Crazy." You see, Dear Readers, I am not a Domestic Goddess in any real sense of the word. I am, however, entitled to call myself whatever the poo I want. This is, after all, my blog. And you all know that you should never argue with the woman who just scrubbed diarrhea out of her carpet, and then dog vomit out of it 10 minutes later...
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