Placebo

This last week, I'd been feeling things that were all too familiar. Heart burn. Weird dreams. A change in sleeping patterns. After a few days of this, I realized that these things weren't going away and took a pregnancy test. At three o'clock in the morning. I knew what the result would be. Still, I was over the moon. I even woke up my husband.

I thought back to my first pregnancy. I remembered all the things that came with it; the sickness, exhaustion, dreams, heart burn, leg cramps, frequent urination. Just to name a few. I know what to expect. But I also know that every pregnancy is different. That is why, this afternoon, when I started not to feel so hot, I told myself there is no way I am sick already. Come four o'clock I was ready for bed. Again, I told myself no. You see, there is a difference between actually feeling a certain way and thinking you feel that way. I am determined to not let the stigma of pregnancy sickness get to me. Just like being in a bad mood. Take a moment, take a deep breath, and change your mindset.  

Now, If I wake up in a week with my face in the toilet, that's a different matter. I am determined to beat the sickness. Your brain can be your best friend or your worst enemy. Mind over matter, right?

Can't live with her. Can't live without her.

We finally brought my dog to our house. She's been staying at my mom's while Nick worked on the fence. The fence was fixed, so the dog made the journey. Much to my chagrin.

It was so peaceful here without her. I didn't have to worry about her needing in and out. In and out. In and out. I didn't have to make sure she ate, while also making sure Cooper didn't eat her food as well. I didn't have to make sure she didn't snap at Cooper. (Really she only snaps when provoked. If a pushy little toddler kept pulling at my feet and yanking on my hair, I think I might get a little grouchy too.) I didn't have to share my bed with my husband, sometimes son, AND a dog. I didn't have to worry about dog hair being e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e. Last, but definitely not least, I didn't have to make sure her dirty little paws dug out from under the fence- like she's done so many times before. Even though she is the cause of much annoyance, she is part of the family, which brings me to yesterday's fiasco.

I let her out in the afternoon. After a while I heard her bark and figured she needed in. I finished up whatever it was I was doing at the time and opened the door to the garage. She wasn't there. I checked the back yard and called her. She didn't make a sound. It was eerily silent. Then I noticed, right there in front of me, was a hole under the fence, with little Kyla hairs stuck in the dirt. Instant dread filled my chest. We live right next to a busy entrance to a rather large mobile home park. School had just been let out, so there was quite a bit of traffic. I ran inside, texted my husband (who was out of town) and paced by the windows, hoping to see her.

Cooper and I got into the car and drove around for about 15 minutes looking for her. The whole time I'm filled with panic at the thought of finding her "sleeping" on the side of the road. My friend Chelsea and her husband came to help us search, but luckily we'd already found her. She was sitting, quite regally, in a yard behind my house, like she didn't have a care in the world. After we got back, Chelsea's husband helped me double check the fence. I locked kyla in the bathroom for a while while my heart returned to it's normal rhythm.

I guess what the moral of the story is, the dog really isn't that bad. Even though she chooses to only bark when Cooper has gone down for a nap or to bed, she really is like a second child. I'm glad she's here and that we have her back. Safely.

-If she does it again though I think her new home will be the trunk of my car.-

Settled

I feel that I can now confidently say that my house is put together enough to be classified as settled. It took a few days but I'm feeling better. Another thing I can confidently say, is that I can call myself a "housewife". I am constantly cleaning/ tidying. I even managed to get some pictures hung (with some help). I am by no means done. But getting closer every day.

My husband has also stepped into his role of home owner with pride. He's already started fixing the fence. He fixed a phone line issue for the internet. He did a minor repair in a small leak in the attic (I heard dripping on my ceiling this afternoon during a downpour) until he can get up there and do it properly.

My son has claimed the house as his. Pretty much instantly. I was impressed, I thought it would take a couple days. Then I remembered that he's a toddler and EVERYTHING is his. He even helped daddy put together the dining table last night. (He stuck a little screw driver in every hole he could find. It was quite humorous.)

Even though we are all busy bodies, we have plenty of time for each other. We eat, play, snuggle, laugh, and more together. I love being home with my boys in our humble little nest. I can't wait for the memories we are going to make.

Moving Day Eve

Tomorrow's moving day. I can't help but be totally consumed with anticipation. Do you remember when you were in elementary school and it was field trip day? I do. I would sit patiently at my desk with my sack lunch, watching the clock, counting down the seconds until it was time to go. Or how about the night before a vacation, when your mind can't stop imagining all the fun things you're going to do? That is how I feel this evening. 

We did a bit of last minute packing. Bought a few things at the store. My mind still thinks I'm missing something. (Good thing we're only moving 15 minutes away. I can pick up things I may have left behind.) My eyes are telling me it's time to hit the sheets. I'm pretty sure my body agrees, as tomorrow will be an early morning. My brain, however, is doing circles and somersaults and jumping jacks.

Considering it is 10 pm, I must listen to my eyes and at least lay in my cozy bed. Surely I will sleep at some point.  

Partners in Crime

As I lay in my bed last night, next to my human furnace, I thought about how happy I am with my life. The past four years of my life have been full of adventure, friends, and family, all of which leave me feeling blessed.   I have the greatest little boy in the history of human kind, am working on adding another munchkin to our litter and am within a few short days of closing on our first house. None of this would be possible without the wonderful man at my side that I get the privilege of calling my husband.

At four o'clock every day, I start watching the minute hand on the clock. Each tick is one minute closer to when I get to see my husband's eyes light up as he walks through the door and sees his son and I waiting for him in the living room. We play with our son, cook dinner together, and go over our days. It's at this time every day that I feel complete; when my boys and I are together, just being a family.

Bed time is something I've started to look forward to every evening. We each take part in Cooper's bed time routine, do our own things for a little bit, then get ready for bed. This is when we get "our time" (get your mind out of the gutter). We snuggle. I scratch his back. He begrudgingly warms my toes. We giggle. Then comes a kiss and "good night". Ten seconds later, after he's fallen asleep I think to myself, "This is it. This is what life is about". 

Don't get me wrong, it's not always easy. There are times he drives me absolutely nuts and I'm sure on more than one occasion he's wanted to lock me in the closet. He's been known to be sarcastic, stubborn, and sometimes abrasive. With that said, he's also the most loving, kind hearted person I know. 

You can't have happiness without struggles. You can't appreciate a smile without first having frowned. As he sleepily grabs my hand -mid snore- I can't help but wonder what life will throw at us. But I say "bring it on". There's no better man to weather life's storms with than the one laying next to me every night. 

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep...

Why is it so easy for men to fall asleep? It is a scientific conundrum to me how a man can fall asleep as soon as his eyes are closed but then we women are up for at least 10 minutes while our brain goes on random journeys into the unknown. 

Last night, after my husband said the usual, "Good night, I love you.", I counted how long it took for him to go to sleep. FIFTEEN SECONDS! I must say, I am truly amazed. I'm quite jealous actually. Here's what it sounds like in my brain while I'm trying to sleep:

"Oof, that was a long day. A nap would have been nice. Why did Cooper only sleep for 45 minutes today? It's going to be an early day tomorrow, cause he went to sleep before 8 pm. I should really go to sleep so I'm prepared... Wait, what was the date today? Oh my god... it's the 6th! I hope I have time to finish Christmas presents. I only have to make two more. Should I do it before or after we move into the house. Ugh, the house. If that falls through, I'm going to go absolutely nuts. Don't think like that, you'll close on the 15th like planned. I wonder how I'm going to decorate it? I have lots of DIY art ideas. I should really do those Christmas presents first though. I'm not going to get anything done unless I get some sleep first..."

I might do the above 2 or 3 times with different subjects before sleep. It's a process that takes at least 5 minutes. I wish I knew the secret to turning it off. It would be nice to go right to sleep like a normal person.

The Image of a Mother

I was reading a facebook post this evening in which a friend of mine, also a mother, said something about physical appearance and the difference in what other people see and what she sees. It really validated my own feelings and made me feel better about myself and my own "physical appearance". In her post, she mentioned not taking the time to curl her hair or do her makeup because the time she spent doing that, she could be spening with her daughter instead. FINALLY, someone else with my train of thought.

I asked my husband the other day, "Does it bother you that I wear sweats all the time? Am I a slob because I don't do my hair and wear makeup?". Bless my husband's heart, he said, "What? No. It's just clothes. I want you to be comfortable". This was music to my ears because to me, wearing jeans is "dressing up" nowadays. I spend all day playing with my son. Sweats allows greater range of motion when I'm rolling around on the floor or chasing him around the house. Sneakers seem like a smarter choice when participating in the "chase me around the store" marathon. 

Makeup and pretty hair also seems like a waste of time to me. First of all, I'm in my house with my son. I'm not wasting makeup or time doing my hair that nobody's going to see. Secondly, I'm pretty sure my son doesn't give a rip what color my lips are or if my lashes are coated. My husband says I'm beautiful without all of that, so why bother?

I guess what I mean to say is, I'm a mother down to my soul. I prefer sweatpants with a little dirt on them from rolling around with my boy. I actually don't mind my shirt to have a little bit of snot on it from my son's runny nose or stained from the time he sneezed with a mouth full of juice. I prefer the look of play time, snuggle time, and wrinkles from nap time to heels, skirts and a fancy face. When my time comes, I don't want my family to remember my choice of clothes or the perfume I wore. I want them to remember the times I made mud pies and finger painted with pudding on the kitchen floor. In the end it's about the time we spend together. Not the way we looked doing it.