Why I Love My Husband

This is not a mushy love post. Mostly because I think the mushy love stuff belongs in a Nicholas Sparks novel, or a romantic comedy. But I honestly love the Hubs so much sometimes. And it's not because he cooks, cleans, takes care of the kids and me. Of course he does those things, and I think he's amazing for everything he does. But I love him because we just "click." Let me give you some recent examples:

Baby Girl likes pretty eyes and pretty lips because she started watching me put makeup on. So, she got some glitter "eyeshadow" and lip gloss for Christmas, which she loves to wear all of the time. I was getting ready to give Little Punkin a bath the other night, and saw Baby Girl's blanket in our bathroom. I asked the Hubs why her blanket was in our bathroom. He said, "She must have left it in there when I was putting her makeup on." And when he said it with a straight face, I couldn't help but laugh.

Lately, we've been watching "Toddlers and Tiaras." And yes, I said we. Because even though the Hubs is in the kitchen cooking or cleaning, or reading his latest edition of Better Homes and Gardens, he is most definitely watching this show with me. Case in point: I went to the bathroom and came back out, and he says, "That little baby totally just won Grand Supreme." At which point I replied, "The fact that you even know what a Grand Supreme title is, just says it all." And then, we're watching it today, and he said something about how one little girl was late to the stage. I said, "She gets points taken off for being late." He said, "I know." Yes, honey, I know you know.

Has anyone else seen that laundry detergent commercial where the dad is talking about feeling like a super hero for doing the laundry?? His daughter asks, "Daddy, can we play ponies?" And he says, "After we do foldies." Yes, that is the Hubs. And THAT'S why I love my husband. Because he's not afraid to give up the man card once in a while :)

3rd (And Final??) Baby

I remember when the Hubs and I first started talking about having a family, I told him emphatically that I wanted 3 or 4 kids. He was pretty sure he just wanted 2. We spent 2 years trying to conceive before we got pregnant with Punkin-head, and I loved every single second of being pregnant. I'm being totally serious, I LOVE being pregnant. (Okay, the bladder control issues and back pain are for the birds, but the rest of it was pretty great.) And out of nowhere, the Hubs tells me, "One and done. We have a perfect baby, I don't want to ruin anything." Hmmm, well. I told him, "Okay, I'm having at least one more child, with or without you."

Yes, I really said that. But in my own defense, I had just had a baby, and can't be held responsible for the crazy things I said. Needless to say, Baby Girl was quite the surprise for both of us, and that was when we both decided that we needed to take a break from baby-making. And we totally did, until we started talking about having another baby sometime in the future. Sometime in the future became right then and there, so here we are with 3 beautiful babies pretty close in age. And we both know that we don't want any more kids in our already crazy house.

It's just that I have this cute and cuddly newborn here, and I just love him so much. And some of my friends are getting pregnant, and I think, "Awww, maybe one more baby wouldn't be so bad."(And that's just crazy talk, right there) Key word: baby. I LOVE babies!! They're so adorable, and kissable, and they don't throw temper tantrums or talk back. It's amazing!! So, I will probably always have baby fever, but just for babies. Once the kids are older, I'd like to think about being a foster parent. To babies. Once they start talking, they gotta go. Do they have rent-a-baby places?? Because I want to be a member there.

Potty Training the Untrainable

Whoever said boys were easier to potty-train than girls was absolutely right. Punkin-head had a rough start, but he was in his big boy underwear all day and night in less than a month. We took it pretty easy on Baby Girl, but started introducing her to the wonderful world of the toilet at about 18 months. She turned 3 in December, and the battle still rages on.

You name a technique, and we've used it. I have bribed her with gifts, candy, privileges, stickers, a pony. She doesn't care. We've completely stopped trying for months at a time, and it's like she forgets what a toilet even looks like when we start again. We put her on the toilet every hour whether she has to go or not, and she started to think she was being punished. Literally screaming her head off, "I DON'T HAVE TO GO POTTY!!" So when she came up to us a couple weeks ago, acting very frantic, and said, "I have to go potty, I have to go potty," the Hubs picked her up and ran with her to the toilet to make sure she made it on time. And she totally did!! How exciting!! She's initiating the need to go to the big girl toilet, and we are so close to getting her out of diapers.

Bwahahaha!! Silly parents. A couple times a day she does her frantic potty cry, and she likes to wear her big girl panties, but there are still times she tells us she has to go, only to get on the toilet and say, "But I don't have to go potty!!" In fact, the only thing that has been urging her on is the fact that she doesn't want to wear diapers like the new baby. But that doesn't stop her from going off into a corner and pooping in her big girl panties. We sadly had to say goodbye to Sponge Bob and Dora this week because she decimated them with some seriously disturbing bowel movements. I wouldn't put it past Baby Girl to be wearing a diaper to Kindergarten. For real.

My New Baby...And Resolutions

Okay, so when I initially started this blog, it was because I had so many funny, outrageous, too-good-to-be-true stories to tell, and I couldn't post all of it on Facebook. And then I totally sucked at actually posting on here. So, one of my resolutions this year is to actually USE this blog. To document the craziness that is my life, and to keep everyone updated with how things are going with 3 kids.

Which brings me to Little Punkin. Our 3rd (and FINAL) baby arrived on December 29th, rather unexpectedly. So unexpected, actually, that the Hubs had to go buy a car seat so we could take him home with us. Everything about him is so perfect, and sweet, and tiny. Punkin-head is so crazy about his new little brother, and wants to hold him at all times. Baby Girl is sweet with him, but not all that attached to him. The Hubs gets up with him during the night to change his diaper each and every time, and I feed him. It's a good balance. And I'm not trying to act like things are super-perfect, but I have never been so emotionally happy. Maybe it's because I know this is the last time I'll have a newborn in the house, but I love being home with him and holding him and just staring at his beautiful face.

I also know that the reason I am so happy and calm is because the Hubs has definitely stepped up and has been working his butt off around the house. Not only has he cooked and baked every single day, but he is Super Dad, and Super Husband. I have been able to recuperate and focus just on me and the baby, and he has been working major overtime. So, I for sure owe him big time for this one. I am going to enjoy every single second of every single day that I have off with my new little baby, and watching my family adapt to our new addition.

Hormones Make Me Crazy

When I was a teenager, it did not take very much to make me cry. Seriously, I cried all of the time. If someone told me that I had a stain on my pants, I would cry. If my mom told me that something I said was out of line, I would cry. And then I would cry because I was crying about something so ridiculous. And you know what a big part of the problem was?? Hormones. Freaking hormones. I am not kidding when I tell you that in the past 10 years or so, I have cried maybe a total of 10 times. (Okay, caveat to that statement...mushy movies totally do not count. Watching The Notebook, Steel Magnolias, Beaches, etc...will make me cry every.single.time I watch them) But those 10 times were when I wasn't pregnant.

When I am pregnant, I cry at the some of the silliest things. I become uber paranoid that people don't like me, I think the Hubs is ready to leave me at the drop of the hat. Basically, I am a hot mess. And I'm just NOT an emotional person normally. I have been told that I act more like a guy than a girl sometimes. Until those pesky hormones kick in and I just feel like I can't control my emotions at all!! And along with not being able to control my emotions, I also seem to want to eat everything in sight. Some people might think, "Just don't eat so much." But that's just plain ridiculousness. Because, hello?? I buy food to eat, not to sit in the fridge. So now, I'm emotional, fat, and lugging around emotional love-handles, which is super-exhausting. So I sleep. A LOT!!

And now I'm thinking: I can't wait to have a newborn around. The sleeplessness, crankiness, never-ending diaper changing is going to really be a welcome relief. Seriously, this may be the hormones talking, but I'm super psyched about having so much more to do than just blobbing it out on the couch. Because even though I can't wait to leave work after dealing with emotional preggos for 12 hours at a time, I can't stop watching baby shows on TV. Oh, and on top of all of that?? Thanksgiving is next week. I certainly hope my family members aren't planning on taking any leftovers home, because those are mine. Because I'm pregnant. And I'm hungry, and I might cry if someone eats so much food that I can't gorge myself for a week after Thanksgiving.

Super? Not Even Close...

I saw a commercial the other day that said, "Nobody wants to be remembered as being average." I think the commercial was for a phone, but the words are so very true. I don't ever aim to be better than anyone else at any one certain thing, but I know I've always put everything I can into everything I do. Which just makes the rest of this post so hard to write.

Let me explain: Even though there are some things that I am good at, I've never been great at anything. I love to sing, and I've been in choir since 1st grade, but I was never specifically sought out to sing solos. I love being a nurse and love being a part of babies coming into the world, but I need to work for several more years before I would consider myself a good nurse. In December, the Hubs and I will celebrate our 9th anniversary, but I know I'm not going to get a "Wife of the Year" award any time in the near future.

So, when the Hubs and I started trying to plan a family, I thought, "Here is my chance to truly be great at something. I'm going to the be best mom I can be." I didn't want to be Supermom, or even June Cleaver, but I wanted my kids to see me as being Supermom. And then life happened. Stress happened. Exhaustion happened. Two kids going through toddler years at the same time happened. Being a single mom for 3 years happened. And I now find myself becoming somewhat forgettable to my kids. The Hubs has been so amazing with taking over the majority of the parenting since he's been home, and at first I thought, "He really needs this time with the kids." But now I'm the outsider, even though I'm here at home. The kids now go to Daddy first for their needs, and don't seem to mind too much if Mommy is there or not. The one thing in my life I thought I could be great at, and I've allowed myself to only be average. I didn't WANT to be average, I ALLOWED it.

The new baby will be here in less than 3 months, and I feel like it's a deadline I have to repair my relationship with Punkin-head and Baby Girl. I don't take anything away from the bond that the Hubs and the kids have, I just wish I hadn't let my bonds with the kids suffer. This isn't a pity party, it's a recall to reality, and trying to be more present in the day-to-day with my babies. It starts today with the pumpkin patch.

All Grown Up

From the time my babies were created, they have relied on me to protect, nurture and take care of them. And after they joined the world, they have expected help from several different people in order to accomplish different things. With each new thing that they can do alone, I get excited and a little bit sad. Excited because my little baby is becoming more independent and so much more grown-up. Sad because that is one more thing my teeny, tiny little person does not need my help with. Punkin-head and Baby Girl have both told me, "No, mommy, I can do it by myself." And in my head, I think, "Yay!! One less thing I need to worry about right now. Wait. Wait just a second. Stop growing up and needing me less."

And so, with all of this self-sufficiency, I have found myself holding onto so much more with my little babies. Which brings me to the dentist appointment last week. The dental tech came out to the waiting room and said my son's name. I stood up and walked over to her with him and she told me, "Oh, he gets to go back all by himself since he's over the age of 3." I'm sorry...WHAT?? He goes back all by himself and has his very own dental appointment...BY HIMSELF?? I said, "Really?? I can't go back with him??" She told me, "Don't worry. He'll be just fine." Well, great. I know he'll be fine, but I'm not. My little man walked back there and as I watched the door close behind him, I seriously started to cry a little. I have been there for him for everything, and now he's big enough to go by himself.

Thankfully, Baby Girl got called back to her appointment at the same time, and I went back with her. I held her in my lap as the tech cleaned her teeth and the dentist examined her cute little smile. Then Punkin-head came walking around the corner with a big grin on his face and a bag of dental goodies for being such a good patient. He was so proud of himself for being such a big kid. And I was proud that he was able to be so good all by himself. I told him I was so happy that he did so well, and he was such a big boy now. Then the dentist said, "We'll see you back in 6 months. And next time, she'll be able to go back by herself too." Oh, well, isn't that just peachy??