Is it Bedtime Yet?

*Disclaimer: The portions of this blog post depicting my husband's obvious lapse in judgement were shared with permission...and a laugh.*

It started last night.

I reminded my husband that it was his turn to get up and feed the baby in the middle of the night. His response was that I should do it since he has to get up and go to work in the morning (he gets up at an ungodly (sarcasm) 7:50 am) and I can stay home and take a nap if I'm tired.

Sleep did not balm the wound on that one, so I woke up in a fowl mood.

Then I got to deal with the insurance some more, who refuse to cover any of the medical expenses (in upwards of $200,000, ya know, pocket change) stemming from my son's NICU stay and life flight. They tell me to deal with the hospital about it. The hospital tells me to deal with them. I think that after they both tell me this, they meet up for Dr. Pepper in a Sonic parking lot and laugh at me.

I went to my son's parent/teacher conference this morning, making special care not to wear yoga pants. After that, I took my three little darlings to the park to play until they were tired enough to take a nap spend some quality time together, and after an hour (which I personally find to be a very reasonable allotment of time since I didn't get to bring a friend to gossip with while the kids played) I said we had to go home. If only it had been that easy. My three year old responded with taking off her left shoe and throwing it at me, and then standing by the playground screaming bloody murder while I tried to play the "fine, I'm leaving" game with her and load the other two into the car. The game didn't work, as she has a head as thick as a ball of solid steel. Someone walked up to her and probably thought she was seriously distraught, because my daughter is an incredible actress, and bent over with the body language of "Where is your mommy, little girl?" I could see it all very clearly from where I was putting the stroller back into my trunk (maybe 20 feet away) and thought, "Oh, crap." That's when Ellie punched her and ran away screaming. Ellie has a solid right hook...excellent follow through. She was still screaming when I got to her (no tears, just wails of horror) and I picked her up, tossed her over my shoulder and mouthed an "I'm sorry" as we walked to the car. I tried to act normal and in control while quietly whispering threats into her ear. Then I wondered how many people were watching me and wondering if I was kidnapping the small human currently screaming like a banshee and only wearing one shoe.

So, we came home. Where I instructed my kids to clean up their room and was subsequently called "the hugest meanest butt hole" by my six year old. Then, when I found that my daughter had escaped and was not in fact in her room cleaning, she came out of my room wearing a heavy application of my lipstick but acting nonchalant as if she was just going for an afternoon stroll. Refer to the previous about her acting abilities. When I went into my room to assess the damages I was lucky not to find any remnants of the makeover. I did, however, find gum in the carpet and a broken curtain rod. Occupational hazard.

While fixing the curtain rod, I heard someone yell, "IS THAT POOP?" I walked in to find Ellie waving her hand in front of her nose and denying any involvement in the aforementioned matter. Landon says he saw Ellie do it. Ellie scoffs at that. Let's just say that my daughter blamed her dad. The accused has not confirmed nor denied the allegations.

The rest of the afternoon has gone by in a blur. I vaguely remember getting baby throw up in my hair and answering the door for a neighbor who will probably go home and say bad things about me in concerned tone to her husband. I said bad things about her to myself when she left. In all fairness it was mostly because she's skinny and tan and I'm 6 weeks post baby, so it angered me greatly. I may or may not have seen red fire. It wasn't her fault. But I blame her and I'm not ashamed.

I would go ahead and call the day a parenting failure. However, I diligently remembered to refill my birth control and not for nothing, but pretty sure the pharmacist knew exactly why I was getting it filled due to the two older kids hitting each other behind me. I also typed the last few sentences of this with one hand so I could hold in a binkie for my youngest with the other hand. On that note, I'm going to go now. Pray for me.

So, hubby, when do I get my nap?

An Update and a Throwback

I haven't blogged in a while. I suppose I could blame it on being busy, now a mom of three, but the truth is that once a little bit of time goes by without writing, it's easy to just let more and more time go by. The thought of playing "catch up" with my blog, and then once again explaining why I've been gone, and then committing to be "back at it" and the added guilt once I, once again, am not "back at it", all just makes it quite complicated. Truth is, I've just been thinking about other things lately! I've been focusing on my kids and my family. My pregnancy was a whirlwind and the subsequent 6 weeks since Mason was born seems like an even bigger whirlwind!

There are so many things I've been wanting to sit down and write about. There are products I've been using that I want to share with you (some I love, some I hate) and there are moments with my kids I've been wanting to immortalize in print. There are reviews I've been asked to do, products that have been sent to me that I've used and planned to report on, and of course, Mason's birth story that I'd love to share.

However for now, while I work on compiling the different projects I have in store for this blog moving forward, I thought I would scale it back just a second from the fashion and the makeup and the sarcasm and, in light of my oldest son's sixth birthday a few weeks back, and me becoming a new mother again just a few weeks before that, I'm going to paste in an excerpt from an old blog entry from a personal blog (a journal, really) from four years ago, on my son's second

birthday. Not only do I feel the same way about my son as I did then, but it's all multiplied by three. So here's a little throwback for you all! Enjoy!

**********

On this very day, two years ago, my body was housing a little miracle. I would have him on February 28, 2009 in the late morning. My whole world was going to change. From that second forward, I was no longer the same person. Something innate, divine and remarkable changed inside of me. A rough, brazen albeit sensitive soul had spent nine months being shaped and refined into a mold worthy of the name 'Mommy'. That day, I was entrusted with a gift. This gift was unlike any I had received before. I was given a soul. This soul was my responsibility to shape and feed with wisdom and knowledge-attributes that, ironically enough, this new little soul would be teaching me. Heaven sent me a gift.

Heaven sent me an angel. I named him Landon.

I wish that I had words in my vocabulary to even come close to describing what it is like to be a mother. I've never been one to lack eloquence, but my angel of a boy is the one thing in my life that has rendered me speechless.

I love him, not only because he is my child, but because of who he is. He is a good, good person. He recognizes when someone's feelings are hurt, and he is the first to hug them. He knows when I'm sad or not feeling good, and without asking him to, he'll bring me his teddy bear or his blanket. He kisses his Buzz Lightyear and Woody toys goodnight each night. He tells me about Jesus, and that we should be soft in His house. (Reverent at church.) He knows how to kneel down and fold his arms, and he knows that before he goes to bed, he is to say his prayers. He is polite, and says "Please" and "Thank You".

Aside from those and countless other beautiful attributes my sweet son has, one of my favorites is that he is an incredible judge of character, which is a testament to the people in his life that he loves. 

Can you believe, that despite all of the words scrawling from left to right across this page, I might still feel at a loss for words in regards to my feelings about my son?

Well, I do.

I am in awe of him. I am in awe of my Heavenly Father for the mere creation of such a being as my sweet son. My love for him, regardless of anything that I might have the creativity to type, has rendered me my own kind of speechless.