Happy wife; happy life.

When I was little I often thought about my future husband and family. I had this notion that my husband and I would be so in love and happy all the time. Our kids would be angels. Not true. It's not that easy.

I didn't realize how you can get caught in a rut; the everyday routine. Wake up, work (or in my case, take care of the kids), dinner, sleep, repeat. I often forget that I need to tend to the relationship I share with my husband.

I was able to do that today. Thing 1 was picking flowers and thing 2 was playing with toys in his stroller outside and I got to do something with my husband that we've never done before: play basketball together (or PIG, rather). I felt a renewed sense of companionship afterwards. It was the breath of fresh air I needed in our relationship. Something so simple.

Now that the weather is nice I'm hoping we can do more of this rejuvenating. Maybe swing together at a park we take the monsters to. We can play catch with a football outside when the both of the boys are sleeping. Keep it simple.

I look forward to it.

Sod off, Harvey.

There is an age old question that is asked by people all over the world. That question is: "Where do the missing socks go?". It was once thought that they disappeared to a far away land of magic and wonder. A place where unicorns frolic through sugary meadows and Tootsie Rolls grow on trees. Once this sock has gone to this mystical place we must say a little prayer for the one that's left behind because there's only one place for it to go. Sock hell; the garbage can.

side note: I once found a pair of socks trying to escape together in the pouch of a fitted sheet. You know the pouch. It's the thing that tucks around the corners of your mattress and makes it mortally impossible to fold the damn sheet appropriately. (If you can fold those things so that they fit nicely in the closet, you walk among the gods.) But alas, it was not their time to go and I returned them to the drawer which they call home.

At my house, socks don't go to the land of horny horses. No. They find a fate worse than the hell their counterparts must endure. This horrid place these unfortunate souls, I mean socks, find themselves in is none other than the mouth of Harvey. He uses his sharp teeth to tear holes in their delicate little bodies and leaves them in a sopping heap of drool in the backyard to rot a slow and painful death. Dirty, clean; it doesn't matter. Harvey doesn't discriminate.

Who is this Harvey I speak of? It is none other than this beast right here:

That is the face of wasted money. That is the face of cold feet. I have only one thing to say to that face.

Sod off, Harvey.

Life with kid(S)

When I was pregnant with my second monster- I mean son- I asked the women at my baby shower for advice on how to deal with- I mean take care of- two children. I was given some good advice. Now I would like to offer some things to look forward to, if you will, to women who are preparing for their first child. Or considering a second, because that's just as terrifying as preparing for just one.

~You will get peed on. Probably pooped on too. And puked on. Basically anything that comes out of an orifice will somehow end up on your person.

~You will bare hand a turd out of the bathtub and into the toilet. At least once. It's a right of passage.

~Oh, you're trying to nurse your baby? That's cool because your toddler needs juice. Right now. This is even worse if you're bottle feeding because you have to do this weird chin prop bottle holding thing so you can barely manage to open and close containers and pour liquid with your free hand while you're hunched over the baby in your arms.

~ You have to poop- excuse me "use the restroom". I hope you don't mind an audience because more than likely that's when your child will need to tell you or show you something they think is so freaking awesome that it can't wait.

~When you take a bath alone you may see fingers appear from under the door. This may be accompanied by "Mommy!". It's really cute, I know. Do not open that door. Don't do it. They're really hard to get rid of once they get in. Kind of like bed bugs. If you're lucky like me, your child will figure out how to take off the door handle covers and barge in anyway.

~You were going to stay up after you put the baby down to catch up on that book you were reading? Or maybe you have a show to watch? Oh, your significant other wants to spend time with you? That's convenient because your baby has conveniently picked this time to cry inconsolably.

~Be careful when you choose to drink hot beverages. Right when you're about to take a sip is when your child will excited reach up causing you to spill all over or drop your cup.

The list continues but like I said, I put the baby down and thought I could do this while he was asleep before I went to bed. I can hear him whining... Now I have to run Flash Gordon style before it turns into a melt down.