Mother's Hierarchy of Needs

Back in the good old days of my college education, we did a lot of studying about Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs and how it pertains to a child's ability to learn and function.  You see, there are some basic "needs" every human essentially must have met in order to function at the next level.  The levels are (from least to most basic):

• Self-Actualization
• Esteem
• Love/belonging
• Safety
• Physiological

I won't bore you with the details of all of them, but I will explain that the very basic level, Physiological, pertains to things such as eating, drinking, sleeping, breathing, sex (pphhhttt), using the bathroom...

...you get the point.

Now, how many mothers out there are snorting and laughing because, AS YOU KNOW, those basic needs don't always get met for "mama?"  Actually, I would say that not a day goes by that I  barely meet the basic requirements to sustain my own life.  Let's just be frank here.  We all know what  it's like to hold your bladder during the 67 minutes it took your child to fall asleep.  Can I get an amen?!?!

According to old Maslow, one could not proceed to the next level unless most, if not all, of the basic needs of the previous category were met.  Or if they did, they were not very successful.

Take for instance, Level 4: Esteem.  Self-esteem, to be exact.  How you value yourself.  How you look at yourself in the mirror each day and think, "Gee, self, you're just the rootin'est tootin'est!"  How you respect yourself as a human being and individual.  Your confidence in self. Knowing you deserve better and, by golly, demanding it.

Um.  Yeah, no.

As a mother, you get used to putting others before yourself.  It comes natural (er...usually).  You make sure everyone is fed, bathed, dressed, maintained, and occupied before you even THINK of sitting in front of the TV with a cup of coffee and that issue of  Better Homes and Gardens magazine you've been trying to read since October (pumpkins, anyone?). And even if you DO reach that point of solitary bliss, don't get too comfortable, because it's only gonna last about 8.3 seconds.

I'm not here to complain.  I'm here to rally on behalf of self-sacrificing mothers everywhere.  See, we go through life concentrating so much on putting others (read: children and husbands) first that we often neglect ourselves.  We are barely meeting the basic requirements for life, people!  I mean, hello!  EATING, SLEEPING, and URINATING are at the very bottom of the list.  THE VERY BOTTOM.  Yet what do most moms, especially newbies, complain about the most?  Not having time to eat, sleep, or use the bathroom!  How on earth do we expect ourselves to ever maintain relationships, goals, self-esteem, and all that other psychological stuff if we don't even make sure we're eating more than the leftover goldfish crackers from our child's lunch?

Sooo, what got me on this little soapbox today?  Why, I'm so glad you asked.  For the past two days I was battling what is possibly one of the WORST illnesses a mommy could contract: stomach virus.  Oh yes (oh no!).  Nothing is [seemingly] worse than changing a stinky diaper when all you feel like doing is "tossing your cookies."  Nobody says, "Gee, I'd just love to stand here at the kitchen sink and peel potatoes for soup tonight while I'm too weak and dehydrated to even put together a cohesive thought."  And no one should ever have to wear a path between the bathroom and the nursery because you're holding back the "inevitable" during what seems to be a never-ending pre-sleep snuggle-fest with your toddler.

No.  Just no.

You should have the same "rights" as every other human being.  And you should be able to utilize those rights when need be.  But unfortunately, we (moms) don't always have the option to stay in bed all day.  There are no "sick days" when you're a mom, especially when you stay at home with the little dears all day.  So we press on.  We sacrifice ourselves for the better cause and choke back yesterday's pseudo-lunch of leftover goldfish crackers while tending to the needs of those who rely on us.  And sadly, we've done it to ourselves.  We've created a world where we have to do it all and be it all or else it falls apart.

Would it not have been so easy to simply ask my husband to make dinner?  Yes.  But as he stood in front of me asking what to make, all I could think in my little dehydrated mind was, "Dang it.  I should have bought a frozen lasagna."  But no, I insist on making home-cooked meals from scratch each night; and doing it myself is a whole lot easier than explaining to someone else how to do it (Much like how it's easier to just drag your sick self to school than it is to write out 5 pages of sub plans in hopes that some order will be maintained while you're lying in bed with strep.  But I digress.).  It's virtually impossible to sit through a hot bath, much less enjoy it, while you listen to your toddler screaming bloody murder because mommy always "does bedtime." Which, might I add, has become the ritual for the past 20 months because it's just quicker and easier that way.  It's just easier to do it myself.  Easier for me, easier for them.  Just, easier.  That is, until we (I) get sick, or injured, or need a night out with friends.  Then suddenly, it's not so easy.  And thus the point of this whole post...

Mamas, make sure your basic needs are getting met.  Take care of yourself.  And by golly, teach someone else how to take care of you.  Or in the very least, maintain the house and children while you're "out of order."  I learned something these past two days:  I don't take care of myself.  And I need to start.  I let my very basic needs go to the wayside while I'm trying to clean the house, prepare 3 square meals + snacks, teach/entertain/care for a toddler, make grocery lists, balance the bank account, gather coupons, schedule everything around nap time, fix/find/sort/organize ______, maintain a routine, and just "be" there for everyone.  And sometimes, it's all before I even get to go to the bathroom for the first time of the day.

And whose fault is it?  Nobody but my own.  I've made it too easy for everyone but myself.

So, from here on out, I vow to start taking better care of myself.  And I need to create a "back up plan" for when I just. can't. deal. anymore.  I am more than a physical being.  I am a person (ha ha...well duh).  Part of who I am is my psychological, emotional, and spiritual self.  I can't be a whole person unless I am tending to the very basic requirements of life.  So, that's where I stand.  I will start taking better care of myself.  And you know what, this advice goes out to anyone who has given too much of themselves to ANY person or job.  And yes, being a full-time SAHM is a job.  But that's another post for another day. ;)

Take care of you.  Love yourself.  Because you're loved and needed by somebody you love even more. :)

Harley

It's 5 degrees and snowy outside. I'm sitting on the couch with Corbin, coffee in hand, watching Sid the Science Kid. Beef stew in the crock pot smelling up the house. Normally, this is the kind of day I dream of. But today I'm feeling melancholy. I still miss my buddy.

I was doing well for a couple days, but as I was looking through Christmas pictures last night to upload to Shutterfly for my 101 (not so) free prints, I succumbed to the temptation to click on that folder called "pets." There were subfolders with each pet's name. I hesitated, knowing good and well what the end result of my emotional state would be, then opened the file.

I've never so badly wanted to reach through the screen and touch something. I put my fingers on his picture and tears started falling. I missed seeing his sweet face.

And before you scoff, roll your eyes, or look at me very perplexed, please try to understand what it's like. I was this creature's mama from the time he was 4 weeks old. In fact, he was my first experience getting up in the middle of the night to feed a tiny baby. We've been through a lot together these past 4 years. A handful of events stand out in particular, but mostly he was my loyal companion, present through life's uneventful moments, whether we were outside grilling or inside watching a movie on the couch. His loud purr always gave away his best hiding spot. He was the most affectionate, intuitive, gentle, and docile cat I've ever seen. Gentle giant. He was huge. He could knock you down trying to beat you to the kitchen when it was time to fill his bowl. No, I didn't just bury a cat. I buried devotion, laughter, love, and life experiences all attached to that silky black feline.

The worst part, aside from missing him in the present, is wondering if I'll ever see him again. Do pets go to heaven? I don't know. Will my earthly furry companions be part of my reward and happiness when I'm in heaven? I wish I knew for sure, but I certainly hope so. I'm not saying I know better than God, but I think if I gave humans the ability to love an animal companion like this, I would have at least given them some sort of memo in regards to their afterlife. You know, like some sort of disclaimer as to what you're getting yourself into when you adopt that tiny kitten or puppy 20, 10, or in my case, 4 1/2 years down the road.

Eventually life will even out again and I'll go days, even weeks, without a tear. Then I'll find a tuff of hair, a picture, a toy, or some other reminder and remember why days like today just have to be. So for today, I'm allowing myself to be sad and grieve and mourn. If you're still reading at this point, thank you for hearing me out. Thank you for listening to what so many don't want to hear me say because he was "just a cat." But I know the truth. And I think he knew he was more than that, too.

Mother's Day

It's midnight. Mother's day to be exact. This is my second mother's day, actually. I haven't really had time to reflect lately, what with being showered lavish gifts and adoration and all, so I thought now would be as good of a time as any. When I should be sleeping. Sleep shmeep.

Entering into my second year of motherhood, some things have changed, but at the same time, they remain the same. My heart still skips a beat when I see his smiling face every morning. Or when he runs around the house saying "quack quack" (or cluck cluck... We aren't really sure. ). Or when he grabs a book in one hand and shoves me to the rocking chair with the other. I still take in the smell of his hair (except when he's been outside sweating. P. U.) and the feel of his little body curled up to mine as I rock him to sleep. I still attack his face with kisses even though he now pushes my head away, usually because he's so focused on whatever it is he has discovered for the day. And I still love watching him grow and change every day.

Now a mother of a toddler, I can appreciate how big the world seems to Corbin. Everything is new and exciting. Unloading the dishwasher. A swiffer duster. The garden hose. Pushing buttons on EVERY CONCEIVABLE DEVICE. Yes, it comes with its own challenges (tantrums resulting from not getting to push aforementioned buttons?!), but the rewards are so much greater.

(if this poem is terrible it's because I did not intend on writing a poem. It just sorta happened so I went with it)

Little arms around my neck.
Resting his head on my shoulder.
Tugging my hand to get me to follow.
Turning back pages when the book is over.

Smiling because I made the right sound.
Or face or what he finds funny.
Laughing when I squeeze his knees.
Crying because he got an owie.

Plopping his butt in my lap on the couch.
Singing along when he should be sleeping.
Pointing out all of my freckles and moles.
Picking up rocks he thinks he'll be keeping.

Babble and chatter.
Determined bubble catcher.
Loves water and lunch time and then
Scrub-a-dub in the tub.
Book, bottle, and wubanub.
Just a few things I love about him!

Happy Mother's Day!

My Life in Real-Time

I need to vent.  It's been one of those days weeks when you just feel like your head is going to blow of your shoulders because you can't handle.  You just can't.

First of all, I'm still recuperating from Corbin's birthday.  Shake your judgmental heads all you want - party planning and executing is stressful!  Plus, our checkbook is still hurtin' from it all, so we'll be eating oatmeal and spaghetti for dinner for a while.  That's life.

So that brings me to my next woe.  We got this new health insurance through Josh's work, right?  Sure.  So we needed to go get wellness physicals to prove we aren't dying or something (because looking down your throat and in your ears predicts that, eh?).  I get there and they start talking about blood work, to which I'm like, OH GREAT.  Needles. Bad.  Blood. Bad.  And after the needle/blood incident with Corbin two days ago for HIS wellness check (hello, Corbin is a bleeder and I should not have worn white that day), I was just SO excited [insert sarcasm].  But regardless, I let them stick my arm, and I said "ouch" and stared out the window while I tried to find my happy place.

Then today they called us with the results.  Evidently, nobody told me I needed to fast prior to the blood work because nobody told me I was getting blood work to start with.  Therefore, my vitals came back showing I had elevated bad cholesterol (212) which is unusual for me.  But I had really good triglycerides! And my blood pressure was low (typical) and my blood sugar was normal (typical).  Oh, and apparently I've lost a whole whopping 10 pounds in one year.  Whoop-de-do.

Then there's Josh. *sigh*

High blood pressure, high blood sugar, high cholesterol, low triglycerides. UGH.  What am I going to do to make this boy stop eating gas station muffins on his way to work!?!  I gotta give him credit for trying to eat better (less?) lately...but something else has gotta give.  Corbin and I need him around for a long, long time! I wish we could afford a gym membership but...

One. income. family.

I think I need to learn extreme couponing.  Or sell plasma.  Or something.  Because, while I love staying home with Corbin and I absolutely feel like it's the right decision, cutting your spending in half because you dropped to one income STINKS. And that's all I got to say about that.

Look at that pitiful face :(

Getting some love from Grammy

Then add to all that, Corbin has been sick, teething, and feverish (shots?) all week so it's been "fuss-whine-snot-fuss-cry-snot-whine-snot-cry-fuss-snot" all the day long.  Oh, and let's not forget it daggum TURNED WINTER AGAIN!?  What is up with that, April?  I mean really.  First you tease my kid with sunshine and dandelions then BAM it's 40 degrees and I'm covering my petunias and geraniums.  So, we've been stuck in the house and I'm just tired of sweeping and vacuuming and dishwasher-unloading and bed-making and all that jazz because there's nothing else to do while I'm procrastinating.  Except blog.  Notice the surge in blogging lately?  Yeah...

Precious bebe

I'll  miss this one day.  Ok, I already miss it.

So that's pretty much it.  Stressin' about health, money, life... the usual.   It's hard to not just implode and go hiding in the corner, whilst rocking in the fetal position.  But then I pull myself together and go searching for what God has to say when life gets too hard:

Isaiah 41:10
'Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.'

Philippians 4:19
And my God shall supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:6-8
Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, shall guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, let your mind dwell on these things.

Matthew 11:28-30
"Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. "Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart; and you shall find rest for your souls. "For My yoke is easy, and My load is light."

and my favorite...

Jeremiah 17:7-8
"Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD And whose trust is the LORD. "For he will be like a tree planted by the water, That extends its roots by a stream And will not fear when the heat comes; But its leaves will be green, And it will not be anxious in a year of drought Nor cease to yield fruit.



There.  I feel a little better.  I'd feel a lot better after a nap...

When a kitty goes missing...

My cat Ginger has been missing since Sunday night. We've looked all over our neighborhood and others, put out flyers, and prayed. I'm trying really hard not to lose faith and get angry that God hasn't answered my simple prayer to bring a fluffy orange cat back to her home. Somehow I manage to keep believing that He loves me and even cares about my cat. But it's not easy for me. 

I crumble too easily; panic when God doesn't answer my prayers right away. I tell Him He doesn't really love me and obviously doesn't care about the little stuff. Ask Him why He can't do this simple thing for me. I miss my cat. I want her back home safe and sound. I don't want to count my other blessings because I don't want to be happy and forget that I'm sad that she hasn't come home yet. This is real. 

The way I see it, I have two options. 

One, I can give up, get angry at God, my "secret weapon" for all things difficult. I can cry and mope and tell myself God is a cruel, heartless master who doesn't care about the little things. 

Or two, I can resist Satan's tactic to temp me into cursing God, destroying my faith, and doubting the power of prayer. He knows what little things pull on my heart strings the most. And boy, is he yanking away.

I'm fighting for option 2.

I keep reading encouraging scriptures, humbly praying, and doing whatever I can physically to search for her.

I guess you could say I'm being tested. The last time I really felt tested was when the anatomy ultrasound found a cyst on Corbin's brain. I'm sure there are a handful of other traumatic events I no longer recall since they all have turned out perfectly in my favor. No, I'm not saying everything I've prayed for has come to past. I've had my share of heartaches, failures, and disappointments. But I'm still here, and I'm still alive, and I still have faith.

And I'm still praying for my Ginger to come home.

“We have to pray with our eyes on God, not on the difficulties.” ~ Oswald Chambers

It'll be April before I stop writing 2012...

It occurred to me this day of January 2nd that I failed to make a resolution for 2013. Last year, I chose a scripture to base my life on for the year 2012. The primary focus was to do everything for the glory of God. Well, as you can imagine (and as most resolutions do), I failed to do everything to the Lord's glory. But, by striving to do everything pleasing to God, I learned how to be still and listen. Trust. Neither of those things are easy for an impulsive control freak. I learned that everything is in God's timing, and if I would just shut my pie hole for a minute and stop trying to copilot this ship, God would tell me what it is I need to do. And, believe it or not, it always winds up glorifying Him in the end.

Sneaky.

So, this year, I thought about having two resolutions. One which would bring me closer to Christ, and the other which is something more concrete.

And because I think backwards, I'll start with the last one first.

I feel like God is telling me to branch out. I believe we were put on the earth to be social creatures and that we evolve and change with time, experience, and life. This year, I've been blessed to have found friendship with an online group of moms who were all due around the same time as me. This worked out great because I could talk whenever it was convenient from me and from the comfort of my home. Which was just dandy, because with a newborn, I wasn't going anywhere I couldn't wear pajama bottoms for a looong time.

Okay, so that actually does include the local Walmart and grocery store, but that's not really the type of social interaction I was hoping for.

I want to come out of my comfort zone, stepping out from behind a computer screen, text message, or phone, and have real live face-to-face interactions. Ya know, since I now own three whole pairs of jeans...versus a week's supply of flannel pajamas pants.

My other resolution, the spiritual one, is a lot more... Personal. In a nutshell, I could just say I want to be a better Christian. But if being a teacher taught me nothing else, it's when you're listing an objective or standard for yourself or your lesson, you've got to be specific.

So, specifically, one of the things I need to work on is letting go. I've always considered myself to be a very forgiving person, but letting go has always been hard for me in a different sense. I need to let go of what was. I need to let go of bitterness, hurt, and resentment (yep, I'm not perfect). I need to let go of my desire to appease others and live up to their idea of what my potential is. I even need to let go of sentimentality. Just because something served me well in the past, doesn't mean it's the best for me now. And finally, I need to let go of worry, fear, and doubt. I don't know why I continue to carry these things around with me. Seriously. Everything, in hind sight, has always worked out for my good. So why can't I seem to let go of the control and...

Let God.

There it is. The hardest thing for a person like me to do. The most mentally disturbing task for a "just let me do it myself because if it tears up I'll only have myself to blame" kinda gal. I'm learning to let God tell me what to do, how to handle it, when, how, not now, wait and see. It's not easy. I don't really like it. But it is making me a stronger Christian. And that, I like.

So, 2013. A year to stop trying to figure it out on my own and let God direct my life. I feel many doors closing behind me. But even if God has me sitting in an empty room with no windows for a while, that'll be alright, too. Because, I know joy, like the sun, comes with every morning. And I don't need a window to see the light of the Son shining.

You like what I did there? Yeah, you know you did.

Happy 2013 everyone!

Toes, Woes, and Deep Reflection

Ever notice how if the weather has been really nice, say, in the 70's, and suddenly it turns 50 degrees and everyone is freezing?  But if we had been experiencing 30 degree weather, a 50 degree day would warrant flip flops!  The same goes with my life.  Before I decided to stay home with Corbin, my life was a constant GO, GO, GO!  Being a teacher meant I never stopped working.  The gears never stopped turning.  And my brain never shut off.  I was beginning to think my life now was boring and mundane, and I started really missing the GO, GO, GO of working.

Then the proverbial rug got pulled out from beneath me...

Last Tuesday, I was getting ready to go with my husband to a work meeting over our new health insurance plan.  It was already turning into one of those moments where I felt the irritability rising up in me.  Corbin was teething and fussy, I was dreading the long, boring meeting with an infant, I didn't want to drive in rush-hour traffic to and from Nashville...I just didn't want to go.  But I was going to go anyway.  I had clipped Corbin's nails and for the first time in forever, nipped his thumb.  I don't know if you've ever cut a baby's nails before, but a.) it's impossibly arduous and cumbersome, and b.) if you do nip them, they bleed like you cut their whole little finger off.  Actually, the saying, "Bled like a stuck pig" should be recoined to "Bled like a nipped baby finger."  Anyways, I was running to get a bandage for his finger, barefoot of course, and wouldn't you know I kicked the leg of my coffee table full-speed.  I've done this a hundred times, and this time didn't even hurt that badly.  Until I looked down.  My toe was bent at a 45 degree angle...

...to the right.

Broken middle toe :(  (Red from the ice)

It wasn't minutes later that my whole toe was swollen twice its size and the top of my foot turned purple.  I couldn't bare any weight on it and even putting on a sock was excruciating.  "THAT'S IT," I said, "I'm not going to your stupid meeting."

Josh, clearly agitated by the fact that he couldn't show off his precious babe at the meeting (Corbin, not me), left while I laid on the couch with a bag of ice on my throbbing foot.  20 minutes later, he was back, obviously feeling the guilt of being less-than compassionate about my critical injury.

And this isn't even the worst part.  He had been home less than 15 minutes when his cell rang.  It was his sister, in hysterics, saying their mom had gotten into a four-wheeler accident and we needed to get over there.  We don't always take what she says seriously, or literally for that matter, but when other members of the family started calling, we realized it was serious.  Long story short, Josh's mom and dad were riding a four-wheeler without helmets, when she turned onto the asphalt from ground, and wound up spinning the back-end around and flipped it over.  His dad was thrown into a ditch, his mom landed underneath the four-wheeler...on her head.

She was life-flighted to Vanderbilt where she spent the next five days in the ICU and trauma unit for a fractured skull, swelling and bleeding around the brain, and three fractured ribs.  Her memory was spotty, her speech was muddled, and she acted very confused.

Through lots of prayer and a great medical team, she is home now.  Her speech is clear and she remembers everything except the actual accident.  She has an incredible headache and a gnarly case of whiplash, but she is going to be great!  Praise the Lord!  God had His hand over her.  It could've been much, much worse.

During this time, I struggled with a lot of thing internally.  I struggled with wanting to feel sorry for myself  while staying home with Corbin day and night while Josh was at the hospital.  I struggled with trying to not complain much about my broken toe/foot which made it hard to get around.  I struggled with my belief that God answers our prayers.  The last one I actually had been working through for a while.  I'm sure many of you heard of Lane Goodwin, the boy from Kentucky with cancer who everyone was giving a "thumbs up" to on Facebook.  My faith was shaken when he passed away.  I questioned why God didn't answer his parents' prayers to heal him, why God couldn't use his healing as a modern-day miracle, and if praying really did any good at all.  I found my own peace about it through lots of conversations, research, and prayer.  I won't share my beliefs on that whole situation, because who knows if I'm right or wrong.  All I know is, I found peace.  And I had peace the whole time Josh's mom was in the hospital.  And I was very adamant about remaining positive and speaking only positive and uplifting things over her.

I think God allowed my faith to be shaken for a season because He knew this would bring me closer to Him.  He knew I wouldn't settle for vapid responses from people who really didn't know the answer, either.  He knew I'd find my peace.  And I truly believe He did all this because He knew I'd need to be strong for Josh and his family that week.  He used me to help minister, support, and encourage.  Even as I sit here writing this, I am amazed as I reflect back on how these events unfolded and what it did to me as a person.  All I can say is, I serve an awesome God.

So, aside from all the injuries/drama associated with last week, there were also some light-hearted tidbits.  We finally painted the walls in the living room and dining room (yay!), I completed all my Pinterest projects/crafts (yay!), and I got Corbin's 6 month pictures scheduled and planned (yay!).

Coffee Filter Wreath

Wall Hanging

Wall color before... (notice the coffee table is GONE?!)

Painting our 20ish foot walls...

Dining room after

Living room after

Hallway after

Sometimes going to the mailbox feels like an accomplishment for the day.  Other times, it's making it through a family crisis.  Today was a going-to-the-mailbox kinda day.  Which is alright with me.  I could use a little boring in my life right now. So bring on the 50 degree weather - I'm wearing my flip flops!

Blessed :)

I can't feel my fingers

I'm aliiiiive! I feel like I've been in hiatus a while. There's been a whole mess of events going on in my life. None of which are terribly demanding or outrageous, but staying home all day, everyday, makes the little things count.

Like going to the mailbox.  Am I the only one who sees if there's anything interesting, then puts the bills and junk back in? Gotta give Josh something to look forward to at the end of the day.

But anyhoo...

So, we had this little cold snap here in Tennessee. We went from 80's to 50's and suddenly everyone is busting out the hoodies and ugg boots. I, myself, have a giant bookcase blocking the closet door where my hoodies and ugg knock-offs are stored, so I just wore my 80 degree attire and made fun of those people all snug in their warm clothes. Because, after all, people in the northern states probably laugh at us just as much for wearing thermal underwear in the 50's as they do for us shutting down school for a chance of snow.  Regardless, I still froze my butt off.

Speaking of yanks, my good friend, Brittani, aka the southern yankee, came to visit us from New York. I got to hold her teeny baby which made my baby look like babyzilla (Where did my teeny bubs go?!). We had a little mini reunion on Sunday at Cracker Barrel. Between all the adults and kids and babies, there were 15 of us total for Cracker Barrel to squeeze into their dining room. At lunch time. On a Sunday afternoon. And between that and the inevitable spilt drink or two from the kiddy table, I'm sure they looked forward to us stuffing our faces and shuffling out the door. But during our time there, we had great conversation about things I don't remember because my child was being a wild tazmanian devil trying to pull everything off the table. And I was nodding and saying, "yeah...uh huh...oh...really?" but had no clue what they were saying because instead my ears were full of the melodramatic screams resulting from taking said items away from said child. By the way, if you want to know what to get Corbin for Christmas, make it drinking glasses. The boy does not hold his own bottle yet but will turn a glass up lickity split and dump ice all over his face!  It's hilarious.
 
Also this weekend, I made some squash for Corbin. FYI, one squash makes 18 jars of baby food. The boy will be pooping orange for the next two weeks. Thankfully, he loves squash. I mean, really loves it. He bangs the table and screams for more between bites. Then, when he finally gets a mouthful, smiles and squeals with joy. I do the same thing while waiting for more salad and breadsticks at Olive Garden, so I understand. Go ahead and picture it. Funny? And we're moving on...

Squash!

Also in my household, it's been sick-pet-week. My yorkie, Sammy, has been yipping in pain whenever you touch his sides. So, I did what any responsible pet owner would do and wisked him to the vet... only to have the vet tell me he didn't know what was wrong and that I should take him home and monitor him for the next few days.

And this guy makes double what teachers make.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Smith. I don't know why Jim Bob is failing all subjects. Maybe you should just keep him home to watch and see if he spontaneously learns to read in the next few days. Mmmk - that'll be $45."

Sammy trying to squish on the glider with us.

So then two of my cats managed to get sick with a cold, which Google had me convinced was actually some sort of deadly disease. For a minute, I lost half my brain and considered taking them to the vet, but ultimately decided to take his previous advice and just wait it out. I found it quite humorous that my female cat was up running around and carrying on with business as usual, but my male cat was slumping around the house like he was just hit by a bus. Typical man.

But after two or three days of this slumping, I started getting worried because he wasn't eating or drinking much. So off I went to Walmart to buy some pedialyte to choke down him. While there, I found a photo album to put 160 of my 500 recent pictures of Corbin in, a teething toy for Lil Guy, and some delicious lollipops for dear husband and me. At check out, the cashier smiled and said, "Aw, you have a sick lil one at home, huh?"

$20

 For those who personally know me, you might remember the embarrassment of me having to buy incontinence pads for my leg-hiking-dog's belly bands, and having to stare the cashier in the wondering eye and explain, "No, I did not mean to buy Always pads. Yes, I realize those are incontinence pads. No, they're not for me. They're for my dog. Yes, my dog. He wears a diaper because he pees everywhere. Thank you, have a nice day," every stinkin' time I checked out. If you do, you'll understand why the next thing out of my mouth was not, "No, this is for my cat."

Instead, I just smiled and asked, "Yeah, how'd you know?" She smiled back and said, "Poor guy. Well I hope he feels better."

And I felt no shame.

So in between all that, I ordered my handsome boy some wintry clothes. In size 9 months.  *sniff sniff tear*

Love me some Carter's

Moved the bookcase that was blocking my winter closet just in time for 80 degree temps to return...

Preggo sweater from last year.  You gotta do what you gotta do.

 Decorated my house for fall...

And bought Corbin this adorable hat. I could smother him in chocolate and eat him up!!!

Nom Nom Baby Yumminess!

Ok. Blog overload. My hand is going numb, as is your brain I assume. So until next time...

My wish

I saw a fellow blogger at A Cup of Lindsey Jo write a grown-up list of things she wished for.  It got me thinking. So, I decided to be a lazy bones, and instead of trying to come up with my own idea for a blog today (and because I'm a lover of and sucker for lists), I will make a list of things I wish for.

Here goes.

1. More money. Wow, way to start off the list, Miss Greedy-Greed. No really. Staying home with Corbin means one income. Which means Josh has to work extra hard and extra long to make ends meet. I don't care that we've had to cut out luxuries such as eating out and cable tv. But I hate to see him stress and stare at the bank account on the computer screen and wonder how we will make it work. I hate finding his scratched out budgets with our income and outcomes not meeting up for the month. It makes me feel sad, and guilty and worrisome...which makes me feel bad because the Bible says we aren't supposed to worry (1 Peter 5:7 Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you).  See what Satan tries to do there?

2. Even more money. Shhhh quit judging. I would love to have enough money to be able to easily help out a friend in need. Buy someone's dinner randomly at the table behind me. Donate to a charity. Build a church a new building. Take a hobo to Olive Garden and buy him unlimited soup, salad, and breadsticks. Or lasagna.  Just being able to do something nice and not worry if I will be able to buy gas or formula.

3. The ability to cook like Rachel Ray. Every night.

4. Cats that didn't pee everywhere and could be allowed onto carpeted areas of the house.  Ya know, normal cats.

5. The ability to nurse my baby exclusively. It would solve sooo many problems.

6. A remote control that would pause special moments or make Corbin grow up in slo-mo.

7. A fancy digital camera so I can take pictures of my beautiful baby on something other than my cell phone. Ya know, the ones with real lenses and real flashes and stuff.

8. A clone of myself so I could be Mrs. Brown the teacher and a stay-at-home mom for Corbin at the same time.

9. A talent. I really don't excel at any one thing. Sometimes I fantasize about someone needing a guitar player, or singer, or sewer, or baker, or photographer, or painter, and then wowing them with my best kept secret that nobody knew about because I had been perfecting it all these years. Or someone saying, "Oh yeah that's Brittney. She's such an amazing _________."

Egotistical, I know.

10. To be a better Christian. I really feel like I'm the "grown child who's still living in their parents' basement waiting for my internet business to take off" equivalent of a Christian. I have all these desires and good intentions but life always seems to gets in the way. And with the way society puts a negative spin on Christianity, I'm almost too timid to speak up because I don't feel like fighting the "all Christians are narrow-minded, backwards, and starchy" argument for the bazillionth time. I love God and try to live right, but I need more.

11. The 2012 Holiday Barbie. Just kidding...ish.

12. An ear-filter for negative people who rain on my parade or bring me down.

13. A mouth-filter for myself when I can't seem to keep negative words from jumping out of there.

14. An animal shelter on my own property, somewhere out in the country where I could take in all the cats and dogs that people wrongfully dump off. And a vet in the family to take care of them all.

15. Fat cells that forgot I ate pizza, cake, and ice cream this weekend.

Ok, there you have it.  I could probably go on and on and on. (In case you haven't noticed, I'm a little long-winded.) But I'll spare you the urge to unfollow my blog by wrapping this up, saying, I am so, so blessed. God has really had His hand over me. But I don't think there's a single person in the world who isn't in want of something. I just try to remember there is always someone who has it better than you and a lot who have it worse.

And now for some beautiful subject matter: