My heart could possibly explode

Amidst all the craziness that is parenting two small children (both boys, mind you), comes moments that just make my heart burst with joy.

If you're a parent, you know exactly the feeling I'm talking about. It's the "Mommy, I love you"s that come out of nowhere. Or the peeking in on a sleeping baby.

Here are few of my favorite moments:

1. Scenario: Tazmanian Devil does something wrong/bad/annoying. I reprimand him by yelling/putting him in timeout/locking him in a closet (okay, I'm kidding about the last one). Within a few seconds, he starts saying "I love you mommy...I sowwy mommy" then starts singing "I love you, you love me, we're a happy family..." followed by "You happy now mommy?" My head tells me to stick to my guns and follow through on my punishment. My heart turns into a big blob of mush. I'm a sucker. He knows it.
   
   
2. Watching my kids truly enjoy something. I'm talking the unable to contain the excitement screams and mouth open wide smiles. It gives me that warm fuzzy feeling. I'm addicted to it. And although I know it's easy to threaten to take away privelages when a toddler doesn't listen (ie. "We're not going to go to the zoo today as planned if you don't stop [insert annoying behavior here]"), I look forward to getting that warm fuzzy feeling so much that no matter what, we end up going to the zoo. (Again, I'm a sucker).
   
   
3. Seeing Taz and Peanut play together. It almost always ends up with one of them in tears because they haven't yet mastered the concept of sharing, but regardless, when their two little bums are side by side banging on a xylophone for a good 30 seconds, I love to sit back and see brothers form their bond (love/hate as it may be).

Anywho - just had to share.

Real Housewife fans

Okay ladies - I've found a HILARIOUS website that follows the Real Housewives we've all come to know and love. I like it so much because the author, mom-blogger McMommy, has finally captured the many reasons I watch the show - when to be quite honest, I've asked myself that very question on many occasions.

I mean why do we care about some strangers in various cities and the ultra-glamorous lives they [pretend to] lead? That I still do not know the answer to. But I will continue to watch the shows if only to then log on and read the ever so eloquently written opinions of McMommy after each episode. It's almost as if she takes the words right out of my head.

So head on over to her blog: McMommywood (PS - if you're wondering, she had that name before Tori Spelling came out with her new book). And then tell me that you don't feel instantly better about your addiction to the Real Housewives show!

Ridin' the paci train...choo-choo!

Okay, so how many white lies have you told your kids to cover your tracks on the "basics" in life? I mean, really, you'd be lying if you said you didn't.

Tonight was monumental. With the help of Thomas the Train and little babies under two everywhere, I was able to get my toddler to bed without a paci. Wait. I mean without a paci in his mouth and two in his hands. He went cold turkey everyone and I couldn't be more proud. Not since the day I went cold turkey from Marlboro Ultra-Lights in college.

It took a little coaxing. A few "but you're two and two-year-olds don't need pacis". Followed up with a couple "We gave your pacis to Thomas the Train to take to little babies who need them more than you". I know - I did feel just a tad bit guilty exploiting his age and favorite TV-icon to get him to give up his habit. But I'm only doing what's best for him. He'll understand when he's thinking more clearly. You know, in like three years or so.

My original plan to get rid of them was this charming little idea I found in Parenting magazine. Some clever parent decided to submit their story in the "It Worked For Me" column about how they tied their poor kid's paci to some helium balloons and let them go. Genius. I set a deadline of his 2nd birthday for our big balloon ride into paci-less freedom.

It never happened.

My fault completely. I will admit. Letting go of this paci addiction is, I think, harder on the parents than it is on the toddler. The thought of more sleepless nights (if this is possible) and fighting on car-rides is too tempting. I have, up to this point, been an enabler for my own benefit. Does that make me a bad mother?

Okay - now stop. I'm normal. I hope. I hope I can say that all parents go through this very thing around two years of age (maybe even three, maybe four?) Maybe the balloon extraction worked for Mrs. Mommy-of-the-year. But for me, it took a couple of weeks of warming up to the idea before I could begin to think about implementation. And if he hadn't have fallen asleep after about an hour of rocking, book-reading and story-telling, my unsure hand was ready and willing to dig into the pocket of my pink robe and present him with the object that he so desired.

Thank you God for sparing me from continuing to feed his habit.

I'll let you know if this addiction has been broken, or if I give in tomorrow.

The Real Housewife of Floyds Knobs

I was a little sad that the uber-cool, way crazy OC housewives season came to an end this week. They were the originals and although I did watch the first season of NY, they seemed kind of boring and definitely not as sexy. I loved seeing what the OC girls were wearing and who had the most bling.

But I can honestly say that I think the NYC girls are going to pull me in this go-round. Their high-fallutin', catty, Hamptons-going lives make my little old life in Floyds Knobs seem rather...good. What? Did you think I was going to say I'd rather be in their shoes? Not a chance. Well, unless they are Manolo Blahniks. I would like to own just one pair of those one day...sigh...maybe? Nevermind that the only place I'd really ever get to wear them is around the house at nap time.

No, really. I'll be the first to admit that being a stay-at-home mom is hard. Very hard. It's "I'm toying with the idea of going back to work" hard. But here are some of the reasons that I'll take my days home with the boys over the drama-filled lives of the housewives of OC and NY:

1. I get to hear Tazmanian Devil say things like "Mommy, what are you talking about?" when I'm trying to remember the words to "On top of spaghetti...all covered with cheese", but instead only sing that sentence over and over because I can't. He's one. Seriously.

2. I get a workout just by carrying Peanut E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E! Okay, he just had surgery, I get it, he wants to be held. But remember, he's got casts on every extremity. He's no light-weight! My arms are looking buffer every day :)

3. I get to come up with creative ways of getting out of the only exercise I might squeeze into my day. For instance, I found that our little green umbrella stroller works as a great sit-in for mommy's arms.

4. I get to potty-train Tazmanian Devil - which right now only includes him announcing "I pooped", then wanting to go on the potty. I'm working on explaining to him the correct sequence of things. Something tells me this will be a LONG process.

5. Speaking of diapers, I get to change anywhere from 6 to 12 a day depending on Tazmanian Devil's ability to persuade me into letting him drink cup after cup of aqua-juice and Peanut's ever-changing daily interest in solid foods.

I'm sure I could come up with a MILLION reasons why my life is WAY better than those of the rich, skinny, and beautiful housewives in Orange County and New York but I'll stop at just five. I don't want to bore you. Or make you miss the "Housewives Reunion" rerun.

One fell off and bumped his head

So I'm not expecting to win the "mother of the year" award any time soon.

I had the boys in the basement - we started out in the playroom. When they were both pre-occupied with their toys, I attempted to scale the gate and make my escape to throw a load of laundry in right in the next room. Then I heard "Out, mommy! I wanta play in dat room!" I was caught.

Rather than hear Tazmanian Devil scream for the next ten minutes, I gave in. I helped him over the gate and let him run around in the basement (leaving the laundry once again...hey I tried!) He went straight for the huge exercise ball - and after I blew the dust off of it, we bounced it high back and forth. We were having a great time.

All of the sudden I hear a muffled cry from Peanut in the toy room reminding me that...oh yeah...my other child is still down here too. I had set him in the corner of the twin bed with pillows behind him and a super cute noise-making, light-flashing toy in front of him sure to captivate him for as long as I needed to throw the laundry in.

I guess I forgot to tell you all that Peanut has mastered the art of rolling over in the past few days. And despite all my video-making, picture-taking and jumping up and down two days earlier, it completely slipped my mind as well.

Yup - Peanut was no longer on the bed. He was on the floor.

I hopped the gate and scooped him up. I could tell that he wasn't hurt, it just probably scared the crap out of him. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

A few months ago, my aunt "M" told me about the time years ago (her kids are now grown) that she left her infant on her bed to slip into the bathroom and blowdry her hair or put on her makeup only to come out and find the baby on the floor. I was totally appalled. I mean how could someone let that happen???

No more judging you aunt "M". I've joined the club...and I've learned my lesson!

What to do...what to do...

I've gotten the boys on a pretty good schedule. We wake up, eat breakfast, watch some combination of The Wiggles/Baby Einstein/Baby Songs, play in our pajamas, eat a snack, then I put them both down for naps.

Which leaves me a good chunk of time to get things done. I could easily do any one of the following:

1. Take a shower
2. Do some laundry
3. Clean the bathrooms
4. Take out the trash
5. Talk on the phone
6. Take a nap

But what do I end up doing? Getting on the computer. I give myself props for actually making the time to write, but there really are so many more things that I SHOULD be doing with my time.

Oh well - the laundry can wait - that pile ain't going anywhere. And the bathrooms - UGH - that'll be the last thing I do today. Sometimes creative energy just wins out.

Sweet silence...

Oh how I love when the house is so quiet that I can hear the refrigerator making ice, the heat kick on, and the sound of my fingers on the keys as I type.

The boys have been asleep for - get this - two hours! Yes, both of them at the same time. This rarely happens. I even floated off into sleepytown for a bit.

Wait a second - there's Peanut.

**sigh**

It was good while it lasted :)

10 Ways Motherhood is Like College Life

With two kids under two, most of the time, the days are pretty crazy. I sometimes (okay, quite often) catch myself thinking about my college days and how carefree my life was. After giving it some thought, I've realized that some things are actually pretty similar...depending on how you look at it.

1. You are usually awake at 4am.
   
   College student -- because you are just getting home from the bars.
   
   Mom -- because you're feeding or consoling a baby, or explaining to a toddler that it isn't morning until the sunshine comes in his window.
   
   
2. Having throw-up on your shirt may not be too unusual.
   
   College student -- see above.
   
   Mom -- spit-up, slobber, vomit - it doesn't matter what you call it, you can't escape it.
   
   
3. You probably regret having sex the next morning.
   
   College student -- sexual encounters after a night of drinking never equal a good thing.
   
   Mom -- sexual encounters as a mother usually mean you've stayed up way too late so that the kids were in bed, and you'll be extra tired the next day.
   
   
4. Chicken nuggets and fries is often your meal of choice.
   
   College student -- it's all you can afford.
   
   Mom -- it's what your kids are having for dinner and/or all you have the time/energy/ability to make.
   
   
5. Friday can't get here fast enough.
   
   College student -- no class, parties, sleep.
   
   Mom -- husband is there to provide you with the luxury of finally being able to take your shower.
   
   
6. You've mysteriously gained a few pounds.
   
   College student -- beer, chicken nuggets and fries, more beer...and no desire to work out.
   
   Mom -- wine, chicken nuggets and fries, more wine...and absolutely no time to work out.
   
   
7. You love solo shopping trips to Target.
   
   College student -- filling your cart and paying with your parent's credit card is never a bad deal.
   
   Mom -- being able to walk the aisles alone. in silence. without the fear of toddler tantrums. equals bliss.
   
   
8. Once in a blue moon, dinner and a movie on a Friday night is your idea of a good time.
   
   College student -- because you can't party EVERY weekend.
   
   Mom -- when you can find a babysitter, it's the most creative thing you and your husband can come up with (plus, if the movie sucks you can get a great nap).
   
   
9. You hate your body.
   
   College student -- you can no longer fit into the size 2 jeans you wore in 8th grade, so you toy with the idea of becoming anorexic.
   
   Mom -- you saw a picture of yourself when you were in college and WISH you could look like you did then, but you decide that with the addition of stretch marks, saggy boobs and saddle bags it's clearly impossible. So you cry and finish the bag of potato chips.
   
   
10. Your living space is a pig-sty and you just don't care.
    
    College student -- with your packed social schedule, cleaning is the last thing you care about.
    
    Mom -- with your lack of social life, no one is coming over any time soon so what's the difference. I mean the kids are just going to mess it all up again tomorrow.

Let me introduce myself

I'm a stay-at-home mom of two boys. They are eleven months apart. Yes, we're a little crazy - it was neither planned, nor an accident. I guess it was just how the big man upstairs wanted it to be.

I'm twenty-something, quickly approaching thirty. I'm a Virgo - thus explaining my perfectionistic tendencies, although I'm far from perfect.

I'm learning this mommy thing as I go and making frequent phone calls to my mom, sister and friends who have entered the mommyhood too for reassurance.

To keep from revealing too much about our personal lives, I will refer to my husband as Mr. Right and my kiddos as Tazmanian Devil (the older one) and Peanut (the younger one). The husbands nickname is self-explanatory. As for the kids...you'll learn more about them as we go along.

I love to write, though I'm new to this whole blogosphere. I hope I can make a few people laugh along with me as I record the goings-on of my life - which is something I like to call "organized chaos".

I'd love to hear from you too so feel free to leave me comments. Oh, and be sure to click on the ads on my page if you feel so inclined. It'll help support my wine habit ;)

The good, the bad, and the ugly

I Heart Mommyhood...well, most of the time anyway...

There, I said it.

I do love mommyhood. I do love being a mother. But I'm not gonna lie - it's by far the hardest thing I've ever done! After almost two years I'm finally okay to admit that sometimes it downright sucks. If I'm feeling this way, obviously others are too. Come on, I know you're out there. Trust me, surrendering yourself to the honest truth about how you feel will lift a great weight off your shoulders.

I now know that it doesn't make me a bad mom to say that I'm [choose one]: completely exhausted/totally stressed/pining for my carefree college days/wishing someone would kidnap my kids (and husband) for a few days just so I can have the whole house to myself just once.

I mean come on - I knew it was going to be tough. But I didn't know it was going to be this tough.

Before I had kids I used to complain about having to get up out of my comfy bed to shower and get myself presentable for work. I'd grab a bagel to eat in the car and blast Toby Keith during the 15 minute drive. I'd complain about how hard my day was when in reality I spent a lot of time on the internet and making myself look busy. Then I'd come home and have a glass (or two!) of wine and sit for hours in front of the television never missing a minute of my favorite show.

Fast forward to now...there are days that I don't get out of my pajamas, which means no shower, no shaved legs, no makeup, no change of underwear. It's not a pretty sight. Not to mention that when my husband gets home from work I'm not exactly spewing "let's get it on" vibes. Even if I were, I would be too tired anyway.

So now, as a mommy, I complain about having to get up out of my comfy bed, throw my hair into a pony tail and not care about being presentable for my day ahead (oh how I long for a daily shower!) I might get a second to grab a bite to eat while Tazmanian Devil eats his waffle and Peanut occupies himself in his bouncy seat. Trips in the car are far from relaxing and if I'm brave enough to venture out in my sweats with both kids it usually means that:

a) I've run out of toilet paper/diapers/wipes and need to make an emergency trip to Target

b) I'm heading to the doctor with a sick kid in tow, or to one of Peanut's many appointments or

c) I'm so sick of The Wiggles and the only way to drag Tazmanian Devil from in front of the TV is to strap the kids in their carseats and drive around aimlessly.

Even if we escape The Wiggles, I no longer get to listen to my music in the car. But at least I don't have to endure the sight of 4 grown men in primary colors jumping around ever so lightly in their loafers.

Once the kids are finally in bed my husband and I down a full bottle of wine and bicker about who's day was more tiresome (no matter what he says, I say I win hands down every time).

Anyway - back to being positive...

At the end of the day, I realize that I need to put my big girl panties on and get over it. I'm so lucky to have a wonderful husband, two beautiful baby boys, a roof over our heads and the opportunity to stay at home. I have my health, a strong support system of family and friends, and the gift of creativity to write about it all.

My goal for this site is not to spend my time complaining, I promise. But I do plan to share the good, the bad, and the ugly of motherhood. I'd venture to say that although some of my stories might be unique, they're probably quite similar to what other mothers are experiencing as well.

So bookmark this site if you want to come along for the ride!