The Beast

Dec
20th
2013

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You know that scene in The Sandlot where they’re having a camp out and telling the scary story? At one point, they’ve reached complete unity in their understanding of this foul creature, and simultaneously they all eerily whisper, “THE BEAST.”

That.

I’ve used this special cart before and I guess it was like childbirth, in that I completely forgot how painful and grotesque the experience actually was. “Sure, kids! Hop on!” says I, Cool Mom. I mean, I could have carried a handheld basket because I really only had to buy like 2 things, but oh please. Too simple!

Pushing this over the yellow bumps of death at the entrance was enough to leave me gasping for air. I had to take a breather at the Dollar Spot. From there, it continued to spiral down into a pit of despair. Despair and surprisingly, laughter. This thing is like, 9 feet long, and with the Christmas crowd out and about, it took extreme caution on my part not to run over everyone in my path! I kept busting up laughing because turning corners was just ridiculous. I have no other words to describe it. And I was getting stuck on racks of clothing and and and… the list goes on, my friends.

The best part of the experience was noticing who gave a turd about my misfortune and who didn’t even mind. I think I ran over about 9 toes and no one got annoyed. I had a few moms laugh along with me, nodding their heads in sympathy, but my favorite was an older Asian man in the canned food aisle. We were at one end and he turned and began walking toward us. I was already trying my hardest to move the cart to the right side to make enough room for him. As he got closer, he started laughing and smiling with THE most sincere expression I’ve ever seen. It was the sweetest thing. He’s like, “That looks like a tough one!” chuckle chuckle. I bet he’d make a good grandpa. I kind of wanted to hug him. He might have called security at that point, but yeah.

Anyway, this thing? Funny, but never again. I brought it up on Facebook and all my friends chimed in with their own stories. Everyone knows the legend of The Beast.

 

Baby #3 – 10 Weeks

Dec
18th
2013

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It is seriously FA-reaking me out how quickly it’s popping out this time. I have wanted to bust out the maternity pants since the day I found out. Oh, you want to know something funny about that? And by funny, I mean not really all that funny? I gave/threw all my maternity clothes away. Like, every last piece, down to the tights with the big belly section thing. I am completely starting from scratch, which I guess isn’t all that bad because yeah, new clothes. But I’m seriously drooling in anticipation of slipping on a pair of full panel maternity pants. Drool-ing.

Side note on that… We didn’t plan to have any more babies. We actually actively planned not to, up until a few months ago when things really turned around in our marriage. I figure this is as good a time as any to say that I even got a psst… breastaugmentation (okay let’s be real and say a ‘boob job’)… a few summers ago because we were THAT done with kids. (Questions/comments welcome!) But really, I can’t tell you how excited we are about this little baby because he/she is really going to represent a completely new chapter for our family. A new life, a new marriage, a new sweet baby. We couldn’t be more happy right now.

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On to the questions that were asked…

I’m feeling absolutely amazing this time! Everything about this pregnancy has been radically different from the other two so far. One thing I’m noticing is the most intense craving for sour things. Oranges and apples, lemonade, and these stinkin crazy delicious Fizzy Cola candies I had to full on HUNT DOWN this morning because the need was so intense. It called to me from deep within. Thanks to the sweet girl on Instagram who told me they sell them at World Market because all I could find anywhere were the plain ones and No. Weren’t cutting it.

I’m due sometime in mid July. I haven’t been to the doctor and I’m actually scheduled to meet a midwife soon. I KNOW. Who am I again? I’m honestly considering the home birth route this time. Still looking into all the details, but knowing several women who have been through the process, I am completely comfortable with it and actually kind of pumped about going straight to my own bed after delivery. It’s the little things. Rest assured, I’ll be keeping everyone updated on THAT. It’s a big decision, for sure.

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Favorite thing right now? Costco slippers. I don’t even care, man. They are making my life 8,000 times more comfy.

Thank you for all the sweet comments and congratulations! Looking forward to a new chapter!

Baby #3 – 8 weeks

Dec
03rd
2013

It’s the troof. We’re having another!

I didn’t think I’d ever be taking belly shots again (is that the right phrase? ‘belly shots’? Or are those like what you do at frat parties? Someone please clarify, thx). Buuut I think for the sake of tradition, and as my friend Steph said, “to keep it fair with all the babies”, I’m going to continue with the awkward side angle mirror reflection belly shots…

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  •  The most notable bump in the photo is actually the unicorn horn that is sprouting between my eyes. It’s quite magical, really.
  • And I don’t own a full length mirror (I know, what??), so an excuse to go try on clothes each week and use Target’s mirror? Yeah, I’m happy to do that.
  • The elephant in the photo: Maddie was mad because of something. Thought you’d appreciate some clarification.

The Seven Year Switch

Sep
23rd
2013

(No, I’m not getting a sex change operation. Read on…)

Today marks year 7 of marriage for Justin and I. It’s going to be a challenge for me not to be ridiculously sappy right now, juuuust be warned.

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Our honeymoon in Maui was the first of many sweet memories I’ve had as Justin’s wife. This photo holds a lot of significance for me because I’ve often looked back through our honeymoon photos and thought about how much we’ve been through since that day. We’ve been through so much together and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t the most difficult relationship I’ve ever had. It wasn’t long after this vacation that we started to understand how very little we understood of each other and of ourselves.

I’d love to say that we’ve matured and grown so much since then that we no longer get annoyed with each other or disagree about silly things. That I never roll my eyes behind his back when he leaves dishes in the sink or that he never mutters under his breath when I’m annoying. No really, I’d LOVE to say that, but it’s just not true. I can say, however, that we try. Back then, I had no idea what trying meant, nor did I care to find out. I wanted what I wanted and that was that. Our relationship suffered because of that selfishness. It took nearly the full 7 years to switch our habits and try for a marriage that was truly good, pure and lovely. It didn’t take long for things to start shifting in that direction once we made that decision.

Today, though we’re nowhere near perfect or completely selfless with one another, I know how to love him better because I know him better. I know that he has the most tender heart, even though he talks tough. I know that he adores our kids. I know he loves me by how patient he is with me. And by how he tries to act excited when I bring home an awesome pair of shoes I found on clearance (though I know he’s thinking, “MORE shoes!?”). We try to understand the other and not jump to conclusions. We pray together. We value our time together. We go on dates regularly. We try to trust, try to hope and try to persevere because that’s what love does.

Yes, this guy means so much more to me than he did on that beach 7 years ago. Our love is different and grows more with each passing day because we are growing. I don’t even recognize us and I never want that to stop!

Happy Anniversary to my love. See you on our date tonight. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Who I am outside the crop box

Sep
09th
2013

Update: A few friends and I have started tagging our photos on Instagram that fall #outsidethecrop. Take a look at what others are posting and if you’d like, include your own. :)

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I posted this earlier today on Instagram with this caption:

Was going to share some of my drugstore beauty buys for fall and then saw dead Spiderman and all the lovely power cords in the distance. Just a reminder of who I really am outside the crop box. #momlife

I immediately thought, “Dang, I need to write about this!” I realized how often I’ve posted very strategically cropped, staged, planned photos and pretended they were my real life. I think we’re all guilty of it in some shape or form. Raise your hand if you pause to grab “the cute mug” and make sure there are no chips in your nail polish before snapping a shot of you drinking your morning coffee. I get it! We all like pretty things and it’s inspiring to see that type of stuff. I mean, how boring would life be without cute nail polish? Uh, VERY. But I started thinking about myself and the whys behind my perfectly planned shots. Why am I painting this picture of myself? Why did I force my kid to smile and stand still? Why do I care about the spacing between my new lipsticks? I’m telling ya, it got pretty deep in my brain parts for a few seconds there.

I’m not the first one to talk about how Instagram/Facebook/the internet is a place to pretend (oh how I love some of those Instagram parody videos). There’s a reason the crop box exists. We can pick and choose what to reveal to the world in that tiny square and that’s totally okay. It’s YOUR life, after all. If that photo above had a pair of my underwear crumpled up the background, you best believe I would leave that out. Or like, a dirty diaper or body hair or something. That’s a no. Too real. I’m just realizing that for me and what I put out for the world (or my 10 friends) to see, I do like showing the whole, real picture sometimes. I think it’s important to show that my house is messy and my kids can be complete brats and I have a double chin if I don’t tilt my head a certain way and some days I totally mess up when I’m filling in my eyebrows and other days, they look fantastic. That’s LIFE, man. And we’re all living it imperfectly.

I have a friend who jokes with me when she comes over to my house. She’ll say, “Did you frantically mop the floor before I got here?” because she knows me. I have struggled with that ‘perfection’ thing my whole life. Did you know I took gymnastics as a kid? No? That’s because it was ONE class and I never talk about it. I sat there and watched the older girls who had been going for years, doing flips and all this circus craziness and I couldn’t even walk a straight line because I was so uncoordinated. I ran out of there crying to my mom and told her I never wanted to go back. Why? Because I didn’t even want to try if I wasn’t going to do it perfectly on the first shot and I didn’t want to fail in front of everyone. Issues, much? As my Grammy would say, “IT’S A CLUE!”

I’m so thankful that I have friends and family who know the real me and love me anyway. I’ve played pretend and strived for perfection for too long. Newsflash: It’s unattainable. I’m the one with the dirty kitchen floor who hates to mop and I won’t freak out if you drop by my house unannounced before I get a chance to clean… anymore. I will make you wait outside until I hide my underwear though, because that’s just sick.