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.

Crafting

I like to think I'm crafty. I see a picture of a DIY project and think, "Easy peasy". Shortly after this thought crosses my mind I'm in my car on the way to the craft store. I get really excited for my little project and can picture the look of sheer pleasure on the face of the recipient when I give them their homemade gift. In fact, yesterday I put together my first crafty Christmas present.

Upon completion, and with a heart full of pride, I set the final product up for inspection. Instantly, my face fell. I'm pretty sure I heard my heart shatter when it hit the floor. It was off center. There was no way to fix it. Hot glue and canvas cannot be fixed with ease. Now I cannot, with good conscience, give this to someone. (I'm a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to crafting.) It's back to square one, with less than 6 weeks until Christmas. When am I supposed to find time?

I have two more projects to do this year.  I'm hoping I can pull them off because I like feeling crafty.  Depending on how they turn out, I might just end up being content with my role as consumer and let other people do the creative stuff. If that happens, I will have a bunch of craft supplies to give away. *sigh*

In Raw Form

I love writing. Well, I love putting words and ideas to paper. The actual act of writing makes the muscles in my hand cramp. And paper is a finite resource. Maybe what I really love doing is blabbing my mouth. Yes, that sounds a little more accurate. What better way to blab than on a blog?

Let's think about this for a moment, shall we? This will benefit the both of us, really. I can satisfy my need to regurgitate all of my thoughts and ideas and jokes and such onto the world. You get to be entertained without even hearing me speak. (There are some people who would prefer that my lips sometimes stay shut- one of them being my husband.) And the best part is, no pain for my hand and no unnecessary slaughter of trees needs to happen in the process. 

So, here we go. Post one of many. My apologies in advance.