dilemma

so i know ive been incredibly lame with posting and the truth is ive simply adjusted my expectations of myself and now that i expect to never post, im feeling much much less like a failure. this is mostly for me and about me so im trying super hard to not feel guilty about dropping the blog ball. i actually do write randomly and then decide not to post it for fear of being a little too over exposed...ie, when i go off on a tangent about a 'hypothetical' situation that isnt so 'hypothetical' and even the biggest moron with an iq of a stoned sheep could connect the dots and realize in an instant i was in fact referring to an incident involving them...so, i vent, feel better and another month slips with nothing im able to share, with you that is. however, yesterday was so super fun and i just feel like its worth mentioning.

so im about a week out from having our third baby. crazy. on many many levels. the thing with me and pregnancy is i am wholly consumed with gratitude and wholly consumed with misery...i would not have believed the two could possibly coexist if i wasnt currently hanging out with both of them. in fact, i think, i may have even tried to give someone the solution to their supposed 'misery' years ago (prior to my preggo days) as trying to simply maintain a level of gratitude that doesnt allow for any misery...i was SO incredibly wise at 22. but, here i am on round three of baby growing and i couldnt be anymore thankful to have this sweet bundle of goodness coming our way in a week and couldnt be anymore ready to stop puking and feeling like total shiat most of the time.

my first two rounds in preggieville had me poppin the zofran (anti naseau tabs) for all 40 weeks and puking most days to include the morning of both inductions. this baby, who briefly achieved fcs (favored child status) gave me a much needed, much welcomed surprise when at 20 weeks, i all but quit throwing up! of course there was the occasional out of nowhere puke, but by and large, i was feeling pretty flippin okay. but then came the eye infection and return of the puke that landed me in the er and caused bleeding out my lower lid every time i threw up...i was incredibly hot, im just sayin. this was followed by this weeks first ever adult ear infection/sinus infection combo that had me crying like a three year old while holding my ear...wish i was kidding. good times.

the great news is there is an antibiotic i am taking for said sinus/ear infection...it just causes vomiting. fan freakin tab u lous. which brings me to yesterday....

yesterday i was finally feeling good enough to venture out and with baby arriving and my time of not lugging newborn with me everywhere i go running short, i headed out for some retail therapy. mainly, the makings for sugar cookies and some butt paste for baby, but whatevs, i was alone and on a mission. and hungry. i vaguely remembered someone sharing with me that mexican food causes labor and while im highly doubtful of any and all tidbits of knowledge that dont make sense, i figured it was worth a try, it sounded good and since i am totally unwilling to try any of the other helpful 'hints' that supposedly bring it on, mexican food it was. within minutes i found myself eating a chicken burrito from qdoba in my car. and within a few minutes of that i found myself over the top grateful for the plastic to go bag it came in to throw it all right back up. awesome.

and then the real dilemma began. what do you do with a large bag of vomit? i mean really. what do you do? all of the dumpsters in this incredibly busy shopping center were all prettified with gates and fences and i assume hard to figure out latches. and i couldnt very well walk into the qdoba and drop it in a trash can. i began driving around omaha feeling like i had a dead body in the car. seriously. if it were donated items, id look for a drop box. a dvd, just any old redbox would do. even with a baby for the love of pete, id know to drive to a church or fire station, but a bag of warm puke?? i had no ideas but the more i drove the more disgusted i became at the whole thing and the more i started thinking of how good my story would be if i happen to get pulled over for erratic driving...'im sorry officer, i was just looking for a perfect place to dispose of this...'

truth is, im sick of being sick and now there wasnt even a convenient place to be sick. i pulled into what i thought the best option would be...a large trashcan outside a christian book store. i hastily dropped it in, hoped for a little grace and mercy (surely they have a surplus there, right? right??) and drove away feeling like i had just robbed a bank and tossed the gun and evidence. im sure ill head back there at some point and buy something to help ease the guilt and clear my conscience of the 'treasure' i left in their trash, but for now, im going to avoid going anywhere near there and not just because it prolly stinks.

so im counting down the days for this preggie puking chapter to be behind me, all the while watching my belly dance and trying to savor every last bump, flip and roll this precious little one does because at the end of the day, the misery is totally worth being this close to a miracle...

aisle 9

in light of the thousand things i have failed to post over the past umptyump months, i am a wee surprised (and embarrassed) that this is what i end up sharing with you. but, seriously, its funny. in a seventh grade humor way. i came thisclose to stopping in my tracks and thanking this young couple for giving me the best laugh id had in a loooong time (im blaming the grumpy frumpy miserable preggie ive become on my lack of good will and laughter). anywho...so im at a store enjoying some retail therapy (aka alone time making up uses for stuff i dont need at target) when i overhear a conversation at the other end of the aisle. they were young, but not super young...its amazing what i now consider young...im guessing mid twenties and they were def a sweet couple. this is their dialogue that im sure they would be totally fine with me sharing::

sweet clueless girl:: honey, i just dont see it here. you know what im talking about though, right? its that arousal stuff i need.

not so clueless guy:: no, babe. i dont know what youre talking about. this is furniture cleaner.

sweet clueless girl:: nooo, not cleaner, the arousal stuff. it sprays. its smells awesome and works great!

not so clueless guy:: you mean, aerosol? not arousal? aerosol spray? a-e-r-0-s-0-l?? air freshening aerosol spray?

sweet clueless girl:: oh, yeah. thats it. whatever, same thing.

not so clueless boy:: um, no. its not exactly the same thing. its a waaaaay different thing...

at this point i am laughing so hard i have to excuse myself from eavesdropping, i mean inadvertently overhearing their convo which im bummed about because i would have loved to hear his explanation of the difference to his adorable, vocab challenged girlfriend. so. funny. to me....in a 7th grade humor kind of way.

the anniversary post...again

i wrote this to you years ago, before the most difficult chapters in my life had been written and what i didnt know then was that you were going to carry us through a painful year as my parents struggled for health and i struggled for faith. i can never thank you enough for the unwavering support, courage and selflessness you managed to show up with day after day when i needed you most. i want you to know that on this anniversary, i am simply in awe of His generosity in giving you to me. we are so proud to be yours....happy anniversary....

2007

do you remember what was happening 9 years ago today? i was meeting you and finally showing up for a divine appointment where 'we' would officially begin. and i know you think its silly and i know you think we should stop celebrating the day we met and stick to the wedding anniversary and i know youre ready to let this date slip from your already filled up planner, but if not for this day there would be no wedding day to celebrate.

do you remember the date that wouldnt end? it was just supposed to be dinner, but an hour later we were still standing in the driveway unwrapping layers of one another as we asked a million questions and shared a million stories. by the end of the night, i knew you were definitely 'friend' material. your honesty, sensitivity, compassion, wit and those navy blue eyes won me over. at the time i was thinking of what friend i had deserving of you. clearly, we would not be an item. after all, you lacked the massive amount of baggage in need of my unpacking to be a candidate for me. who would i be to you when you were already beyond okay? what would i fix and where would i find purpose in your functional life?

do you remember pretending to be interested in my stupid political science class? so interested you asked to borrow the book and then offered to help me study for finals? i knew you were making up reasons to see me and i loved it. i felt interesting and important, that you, this incredibly busy and special 'friend' put 'time with me' at the top of your to do list.

do you remember our first kiss? its a redundant question i know since it has been the source of a playful debate for 9 years. you can try and make amendments to history on how it really went down, but we both know the truth and it scared the living daylights out of me. did you know i sat in my car for 10 minutes wondering what next.

do you remember imagining a future? over the next year and next 8 years, we would find home in one another. we would fail and forgive and fall deeper in love more times than we can count. and i would find overwhelming joy and peace and contentment. and i was right. you were and are 'friend' material. the greatest friend i could have hoped for. someone to share my future, my dreams, my insecurities and my coffee with. when i scratched the surface of you, i found a friend and soul mate. i recognized you as an answer to a prayer that i was afraid to pray. after all, what would i really do if God gave me you? my fear of ruining such a tremendous gift left me nervous at best and terrified most days. what would happen when i wasnt new and interesting and challenging? and yet, there you were day after day, month after month, year after year, showing up for our life together, building a future and laying a foundation with love, truth, faith, patience and commitment. and dont forget laughter. lots and lots of laughter.

do you remember the earliest days? the foundation may be the One who gave us to one another, but the first layer of us, the strongest one, the one that never shifts or threatens to give way is you. remarkable you. and in that moment when i realized you were the perfect 'friend', God got a hold of my heart and began handing it over piece by piece to you. and now, nine years later, the only attributes that rival 'friend' are 'husband' and 'father'.

its easy to love you. and not just because you make great coffee and killer breakfasts and you make life lighter and our future brighter. and not just because you consider our monday night football pizza and beer date sacred and because i sleep better with you next to me. and not just because your nervous giggle is the same when delivering good and bad news and it always keeps me guessing. and not just because i am healthiest and happiest with you and not just because the only person that adores you as much as i do is our beloved daughter. but because simply you are you. easy to love you.

thank you, 'friend' for making the last 9 years worth celebrating.

dear crazy mamas,

i couldnt help but overhear you today, which lets be honest, was your primary goal while ranting and raving and straight up bull shitting about your sweet (someday in therapy) 4 year olds. while im not a huge fan of mindless small talk, i have occasionally struck up conversations with fellow moms (or nannies here in northern va) and found in them new friends or entertaining acquaintances. i am one of those people (blame it on the transient 'always up for meeting people because im always relatively new' military life style) who enjoys shooting the breeze with other mamas and im always thrilled to chat with someone about something other than our little people. however, you and your crazy insecure sidekicks are so over the top, i had to leave the waiting area to keep you from seeing me rolling my eyes and updating my fb status with YOU guys in it. i had the same overwhelming feeling i have when i see clearly neglected kids at walmart. i wanted to scoop up your three, destined to have issues daughters, and take them home, let them get dirty, eat sugar and NOT practice pointing their toes. you should hear yourselves...

if there had been hidden cameras and your whole bit had been a well scripted joke to gauge other peoples reactions to your ludacris chat, itd be funny. but, there were no cameras, you werent putting on a show and you were serious. crazy serious. first of all, within 4 minutes of your unnaturally high volume conversation, i knew all your kids were in private school and that the tuition, combined with your nanny was astronomical. you worked it in seamlessly, like ive always imagined i would do if i ran a marathon or the ironman. i have a feeling i would make sure everyone knew. like if someone asked me how i was doing today, i might answer, 'great. a whole lot better than i was doing during mile 26 of my marathon two years ago.' or if they asked what i was having for dinner, i might answer, 'something low in carbs. nothing like the pasta i put down the night before my iron man.' im telling you, i could totally see myself awkwardly working my ginormous accomplishment into every conversation whether it fit or not. which is why, its painfully obvious outside your weird circle that you are awkwardly working EVERY detail of your 'accomplished' high rent life into every single conversation.

seriously, the subject of weather comes up and you mention how your hummer handles the snow while dropping your kids off at the private school (that naturally doesnt provide transportation...the nerve) and how your kids are driving you bananas because their traveling gymnastics team that typically occupies 8+ hours a week of your 4 year olds life has cancelled practice along with her piano lessons. how are you surviving these long days with your own kid?? must be horrible. when the subject of the upcoming recital came up, you rolled your eyes in disgust at how ill prepared your child is because you cant get her to practice at home. holy batshit batman, shes FOUR. and perhaps shes a little pooped out trying to keep up with the insanely full schedule you have her on.

so basically, this week, im letting you know that the next time you say something super crazy, im prolly gonna call you on it. and your two equally unstable, envious friends who happily one up each other throughout your conversation will prolly talk about me later. who knows, maybe ill make their facebook status too. i dont really care. you guys are crazy. i feel sorry for your precious girls and i hope at some point you like yourself enough to quit projecting this level of crazy on your kids.

thanks for listening. i feel soooo much betta after allowing my passive aggressive side to vent awhile.

night night

you are passed out now and its 9:18 pm. passed out in the 'youre overly exhausted after getting up at 0'dark thirty this morning' way and not in the 'had a few shiner bocks and are now unable to hang with my need to converse' way. and while i typically roll my eyes and marvel at just how quickly you can be here one minute and lost in crazy deep sleep the next, i am from my head to my toes, thankful for you. right here. right now. sound asleep next to me. tonight, i know your need for sleep is born of a long day that begins hours before i open my eyes for the first time and awaken to the coffee you have once again made and not had time to drink. you wake early, work hard and come home with just enough of you left to greet your little people, who wait anxiously and enthusiastically, noses pressed to the window most nights for your return.

and i love that our children thank God every night that 'daddy had a great day at work', having never asked the question of what kind of day you really had. they are so confident that everyday is a great day because of you and the way you scoop them up, smile at them and hold them close every time you walk in the door. its no wonder they assume everyday is a great for daddy since everyday, daddy is great to them. so, thank you for getting up, showing up and allowing me to live my dream. the one i didnt know i had until my eyes met hers for the very first time and i was lost. gone. hopelessly taken in by her and wanting more than anything to be the one she spent her days with. sometimes, in the midst of snow days and sick days and long days that bleed into longer nights, its easy to forget that it is you, waking up while the rest of us sleep that makes this life i wouldnt trade for anything possible. so, thanks, we will catch up and check in and ill unload all 24,563 words ive been saving for an adult conversation when you are less tired. no worries. ill wait. sweet dreams.

she isnt 30

those of you who know me or have spent anytime around my beloved, wicked smaht peach, know i have talked to her like she's 30 since they placed her in my right arm just over 5 years ago (the left was still holding my puke pan from labor). she has always been a pretty mature, insightful kid who is destined to be much brighter than either one of her parents. and im okay with that. in fact, i have thoroughly enjoyed her grown up logic and all of the ways it has made me think harder and faster and often times more thoughtfully about so many of life's complexities. however, every now and then, i am reminded in the most obvious of ways that she is, after all, barely 5. and although she may have some surprisingly advanced logic, at her core, she is a child, navigating this little happy world of hers with the heart and mind of a little person with limited life experience.

back in late december, while planning her upcoming january birthday bash, i asked the peach which 5 friends she would like to invite to her party. the rule at our house for these early years is the number of kids she invites needs to coincide with the age she is turning (go ahead and put your judgment away). so she rattles off her five friends and then quickly adds that she would like to invite one more. most responsible parents would simply remind their child of the rule and move on. however, this girl has me so well trained that i rarely to never give her that simple of an answer. i now predict the ensuing 3 follow up questions and try to include those answers in my initial response. sooo, i told her that i understood her dilemma and if for some reason, one of her five friends rsvpd 'no', that we would certainly extend an invite to this sixth friend. done and done. no further questions.

fast forward a couple of weeks to the hallway at gks preschool where im picking her up. while wrestling her coat, hat and mittens on, she enthusiastically tells me of some really 'great news'. when i asked what it was, she said, 'well, i told #6 today that if one of my 5 friends couldnt come, she got to be invited to my party and she thought that sounded great!' crap. of course she did. a quick scan thankfully revealed no sign of friend #6 or her mother. i grabbed her backpack and lunchbox and clumsily tried to take my own large foot out of her sweet little mouth. really, gk? really? why in the world did you say that to her?? but i knew the answer. its because shes a kid. excited about her party and anxious to get the guest list firmed up (she is at times her mothers daughter). and of course, she'd been given, perhaps in hindsight, a little too much information.

i had no words and really didnt want to have any part of this conversation in our busy little hallway, so i did what any responsible parent who was gripped by the fear of not knowing what she could possible say next would do. i scooped her up and rushed her out the door of the school like it was on fire. once in the car, i took advantage of the short ride home to talk about potential hurt feelings and why we would happily make an exception this year for this sweet, sixth friend of hers. and i couldnt help but remind myself that while she may seem older and wiser and more equipped for the world most days, that at the end of this day i am profoundly grateful that she is still simply 5. sweet. smart. shoving my foot in my mouth for me. five.