4th Pregnancy NOT a Joke!

This time 5 years ago I was officially over being pregnant! I was over it before seeing that positive, plus sign appear on the 10 different test strips. Before getting a confirmation from the doctor. This was my 4th pregnancy in little over 3 years and it felt like I had been pregnant for-like-ever!

At the beginning I love being pregnant. The beginning, I’m referring to when I was pregnant with Paige when there was only Steven and I and Paige on the way. However if one more person I encountered told me that I should enjoy my pregnancy, even though it was going to be over tomorrow, I though of seriously punching them in the face. Not really, but I might shoot some serious daggers while I envision flipping them the bird. How does one go about and enjoy being pregnant? You are not able to experience the best life has to offer. There is a never-ending list of strict rules, regulations – no alcohol, no sushi (which is okay because I’m not a fan), no to caffeine – only in a moderation, and only certain fish are allowed. All the good medicines are off-limits. Etc. Etc. Etc.

Plus I’m too busy running after school events and two toddlers – how is one suppose to even attempt being pregnant?


Pregnant with Paige

New. Adorable. Exciting. Everyone overfeeding you with compliments. Everyone telling you that they can see the ‘glow’ just jump off my face. Frequent naps are encouraged. No one dare to wake you if you do take a nap. No one allows you to lift anything for fear of you overdoing things. You monitor your pregnancy with a tracker app or notebook. You know what week you are. What your fetus is compared to. You can’t help but stare at yourself in every mirror that you come across hoping to catch a glimpse of your baby bump.

Pregnant with Kylie

People still care. It’s not as extreme as it was when you were pregnant with Paige (your first). Offers of help are common, but not as much. You are busy taking care of your firstborn, but still take advantage of down time here and there. You start to find it a little harder to hide your baby bump, but you’re “popping” sooner than your first. Your excitement fades into exhaustion. With each pregnancy no one pays attention to your growing bump. It’s as if it’s been permanently attached to your belly.

Pregnant with Sydney

People still care. It’s not as extreme as it was when you were pregnant with Paige (your first) or Kylie (your second). Offers of help are common, but not as much. You are busy taking care of your first-born who is now in Pre-K and your second born who is a toddler, but still take advantage of down time here and there. You start to find it a little harder to hide your baby bump, but you’re “popping” sooner than your first and second. Your excitement fades into exhaustion. With each pregnancy no one pays attention to your growing bump. It’s as if it’s been permanently attached to your belly.

Pregnant with Shelby

Where did everyone go? No one really cares. You get asked frequently if you know what causes this. Or if you have another girl, are we really done? Or if you were like me, you’ll get asked if you are having twins or triplets and to make sure with the doctor that there is only one BIG baby in there. If you need help now, offers don’t exist. There is absolutely NO TIME for yourself. No naps in the future. You’re too busy taking kids to and from school and chasing a toddler around at the same time. Your only option is to keep pushing on. When someone asks you how far along you are, you have no idea but to remember your due date and offer that as your answer. If they really want to know, they can figure it out themselves. You start showing like seconds after conception and probably just the thought of another. You have zero bladder functions and pee yourself as you laugh, cough, sneeze, or just because.

Not Caring Anymore

At the end of the 3rd trimester, you’ve lost the will to care. You do not care what you look like. If it fits, that’s all that matters. Plaid and polka dots, so be it. Flip flops are always in season. Easy to slip on. No wasted energy on socks or attempting to bend over a belly that looks like you’ve eaten an entire watermelon whole, seeds, shell and all. Nothing tight. No jeans.

You may even recycle the same outfit in a shorter amount of time than socially acceptable. You’ve probably been wearing it straight for the past few days. It’s comfortable. There’s no struggling with putting it on or taking it off more than once. Again, you don’t care. And your hair? When was the last time you wore it down? Messy bun for life! Most days it resembles road kill of some unrecognizable animal left for dead about to blow up on top of my head.

When you look back at the pictures during all your pregnancy, you’ll regret not trying anymore. That’s then. This is now. There is not a care left.

Too Big for Life

At the end of each pregnancy all you’ll remember is that you are too big for everything. Too big for clothing. To big to be comfortable. Too big to stand. Too big to sit. Too big to swim. To big to run. To big to live. Too big to bend over. If you drop something, you better have some kind of strategic thought or plan about how you go about picking it up. Like get those toes of yours to pick up things.

If you find yourself stuck on the ground, then why not master the skill of entertaining your other children while you are down there. Read. Do puzzles. Color. Pretend to chase them around by scooting in circles and stretch out your arms by reaching as far as you can. Lazy? Genius!

Almost Over

Tomorrow, 5 years ago, was the day Shelby blessed us with her life. We, as a family would never take our lives for granted. God has given me the greatest gift of what will soon be four amazing children and we couldn’t be happier.

With all that said, I can’t hide my excitement over the thought of this baby exiting my body. Not much will change about my attitude, at least I’ll have my body back and I can figure out our new normal. Most importantly, I can be reacquainted with my old friend, wine, to help me get through!

Fun Facts About My Job as a SAHM

1.)  I often find Mr. Potato Head, Ponytail holder, Reese’s candy wrappers, Play-Doh, socks, and a Barbie’s head. 


I have become a master at using the plunger. I’m amazed that we haven’t had to have a real professional come in and fix any serious damage. Plumber is being added to my resume.

2.) I swear under my breath at least 20 times, if not more, a day!

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My swear phrase of choice is: “Are you f@*%ing kidding me!?!?” For example, I have extremely picky eaters. The other night my husband gave my kids an option for dinner – hot dogs, homemade french fries, and ice cream for dessert OR BBQ from a local joint in town. My kids won’t eat the chicken, but will devour the ribs like they are going out of town. “RIBS! RIBS!” I went to get the food with my youngest. While I was paying, she had a major melt down about not being able to get the pie that was looking “yummy in the fridge” as she described it. All I could think of was, “Are you f@*%ing kidding me?” Luckily I was able to bribe her saying, “If we go home and eat your dinner you can have an ice cream cone for dessert.” Problem solved. At least for that moment. When we got home, the ribs were in front of her she started squirming in her chair pushing the ribs away saying, “I don’t like ribs!” … “Seriously! Are you F@*^ING kidding me!?” (under my breath of course. No ice cream that night. Which leads me to…

3.) I bribe my kids.


You probably do not agree with this tactic, but it works wonders for me. For example: “If you do your chores, hygiene, eat breakfat; I’ll let you go on the computer for an hour or two.” This is a win-win for all. The kids live here too. I don’t make the mess all by myself. Half the time I’m in one place majority of the day. It’s not like I go in the livingroom and destroy it just for the fun of it. I’m hoping that one day I won’t have to tell my kids to do their chores, but until that day comes…

4.) I can’t tell you the last time I bought myself something.

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I don’t have a job that rolls in the money. We don’t have the “extra” funds to buy non-essential things. Like those Coach sunglasses that I saw the other day on sale. It was a great deal!

5.) I, like all Moms, work 24/7


I handle temper tantrums. Dirty looks. Picky eaters. Screamers. Those who do not believe in a nap. I get big hugs. Smiles. Laughs. Dare-devils. I never know what the day will bring me. I wouldn’t trade my job for anything.


Sibling Rivalry

Sibling Rivalry: Shark-like Behavior, During Shark Week or Not, is Unacceptable!


Each day you are eager to see what will become of it. Will the girls be on good standings with each other or not? A new day has emerged. I started to get my first dose of sibling rivalry with the girls early in the morning, like just seconds after they woke up at 7:25 a.m. when EVERYONE was supposed to be asleep still. Since you do know, that it’s in the middle of summer! There is no reason why they needed to be awake at this hour causing chaos towards one another. I could tell they were still tired. Needing sleep. Whiny. This summer has proven that at least 2/4 girls have been on a love/hate, BFF/worst enemies that have turned so often that it’s got me grinding my teeth.

It always starts off in the mornings and just carries through the ENTIRE DAY! It starts off with, “QUIT LOOKING AT ME! DON’T CALL ME NAMES! I AM SMARTER THAN YOU!” and so on and on and on. This drives me absolutely crazy! Sometime during the mid-morning they will be on a compromise where they are playing Barbie’s (mind you these munchkins I’m referring to are 5, 8, & 10 – still young enough to play without being weirded about it all). Since they have started to play nicely, I leave the room to attended to the mountains of laundry that seemed to have SPROUTED in hours of completing what I thought was all the laundry in the laundry room.

As I was putting laundry into the washer, I started to hear yelling, screaming crying, and toys being chunked across the room hitting the walls. Doors. It is starting to sound like World War 50 in their room. I rushed into the room and saw Syd and Kylie on the floor wrestling with one another over a pair of purple high heels that belonged to Skipper (a Barbie). Seriously! What are they thinking? I just stare blankly at them like they have literally, lost their minds. What I did see, was the younger one biting the crap out of the older one’s arm. Hard. I broke up the fight. Sent Syd to her room after firmly telling her it is not ok to bite and we have had this speech so many times. It’s exhausting. You would think she would know NOT to do it, no matter how mad she gets at someone. I applied ice on K’s bite mark. She calmed down quickly and liked the fact that Syd was getting in trouble and she was getting the special treatment. I have no idea on why she thought ice in a Ziploc sandwich bag was special, but whatever floats her boat.

After about 20 minutes I told Syd she could come out of her room and play nicely with Shelby and Kylie. I overhear Shelby tell Syd, “NO BITING!” I don’t know what that was supposed to be – whether it was a nice way of reminding Syd or it was because she knew Syd got in trouble for it. Maybe it was just a 1 time deal that happened when Shark Week appeared. Whatever the case. Jaw’s like behavior is a no-no. I will not tolerate it. Shark Week or not. Biting is unacceptable in our family.


A Letter to Myself as a New Mom

If I could go back 12 years to the beginning of this Mommy Gig, there are things that I would tell the “New Mommy” me. Things I should hear and know. Things I’d deliver straight to my heart, like that violent Pulp Fiction through-the-chest resuscitation shot, to help myself breathe just a little in that time where the new Mommyhood first destroyed myself but before I really lived again.

“Dear Past Nikki,

Oh new Mommy. In the beginning it’s hard. It is so very hard. It’s hard. Your feet are constantly moving like a marathon that has just started. You haven’t trained. No one could possibly train you for motherhood. There’s no way to build your muscles. No way to increase your endurance. No way to improve you time other than to start running. It is the way that this is done. You won’t always feel so exhausted that you can barely keep your eyes open at the dinner table. Or catch your head as you are about to visit mashed potatoes. This is off-balance. Delirious. I know you do not care right now. That punching people in the face sounds awesome to you right now when they say, “It’ll get better!” It does get better, Mommy. The secret is that you get stronger with each and every passing day.

Sweet new Mommy, this postpartum depression is not just a biological phenomena reserved strictly for Mommy who grow their babies themselves. You will adore your little one. You are wildly grateful for her. You would give your life for her. There will be some days where you will think you are not up to this and strung out on things you wish you could, but can’t. All kinds of Postpartum “What the hell” days are normal, even for you. Welcome to the land of crushing love with this new little life and breathless with the loss of yourself.

Parenting is relentless. No matter how you got here. There. You will feel like you’ve been beaten, sometimes every minutes or second of the day. It may knock you down, but you will not stay down. You are a woman. You are just at the beginning to learn how very strong you are. Parenting is relentless. I’ve mentioned that. Relentless. Eventually it’ll give you a better version of yourself. Eventually you will consider it a worthy trade.

You will have days that are filled with pain. Loneliness. Unsure. You are dying Mommy. Dying to yourself. Laying down everything that you once knew. You will rise again. You will go far. All the way to the moon. You will. To infinity and beyond. Your life will not always be about diapers, late nights, early mornings, toddler fits, or Mommy tantrums. I swear and cross my heart. You will seek and you will find yourself in the spark of the moment. I know this from hard experience. To the marrow of your bones. You are resilient. Capable. Strong.

I know you are wondering how “Mommying” is so isolating when millions and millions of women do it everyday with more than just one or two children under the age of 5. I know you didn’t think there would be loneliness with it. If I had a genie in a magic bottle, I would wish for a “zoom out” button for you. In the middle of the night. When you’re sitting on the hard floor rocking your crying baby and yet crying yourself. Filled with despair because you want to just stop the crying but are not sure how. You could zoom out and see. You could zoom out over your house. Then out. Then in. Like a Google Earth for Mommy’s. From that high place in the sky overhead you would see that you are one of an ocean of Mommys rocking on the floor in the middle of the night. Know that you are not alone. Maybe in the house you are, but not really. You’d wave at all the other Mommy’s. They’d wave at you through their tears back at you.

It takes a village to raise a child”

I know you would wonder how to find this village. Damn Village! The Zoom Button would sure be helpful right about now. Don’t you think? Remember you must breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. There is a Village within yourself Mommy. There is HOPE! You’ll get there! You’ll find the illusive Village that is lurking about. You are so right to keep on moving til you find your Mommy Tribe.

Oh all the Mommy’s that you will find! Some of them are lost in the wilderness just similar to you. They will point to the way of Love. Hand you a beer. Teach you to laugh at the mess. To not care about what others think of you. You just do not know. The sweaty, miserable work you are doing within the jungle isn’t just for you, Mommy. There is a purpose for all of your lost wandering. You don’t know it. You’re cutting a trail that others will follow to the Love. The Beer. The Laughter. Can you belive it!?

Oh New Mommy. Here are 3 things I wish I could tell you. You are okay! There is both dark and light side of you. The despair and the hope. The hope will win. I promise. 

You are not alone. Love is there. You are there. Together you are enough.

Love to you,

Nikki (Future self)



Questions. Too much pressure. We should make a pact right now and stop answering them. How are you? Do you want a receipt? What’s for dinner? Are you finished in the bathroom? Are you wearing that today? Do you believe in taking a bath? Sometimes I do not know. I don’t mean to act like I’m avoiding any of the question. I honesty have no clue.

I’m sorry, nice girl at the counter, who’s waiting as patiently as she can for an answer that is piling up the line behind me. I can’t decide if I want a receipt or not. I seem to make this decision wherever I go. Today I ordered a Venti Mocha Java Chip Frappiccino. For here or to go? “To go,” I said. Nope I don’t need a sleeve. I said all this with conviction.

The receipt. It just seemed to stick in an infinity loop. My brain has like gone on a vacation without me. Do I want a receipt? I had a complete brain meltdown. Trouble processing what the receipt was. Less alone if I wanted on or not. It’s not your fault, nice lady at the register. You are awesome. Doing a great job!

The problem is seems to be me. The brain tumor. “Motherhood“. A big, old lump of motherhood smack in the middle of my brain. Progressive. Causes my brain to respond unpredictably. Running enthusiastically at warp speed. Grinding all my gears to come to a halting stop. Moderation? Steady as she goes!? Nothing. Everything is dead to me. There are times this chaotic brain of mine if great for a million questions, raising a lot of money for GT programs just for Moms, raising its hand at the front of Spanish class, and the OMG I KNOW THE ANSWER!! PICK ME!! PICK ME!! Today was not the case.

My brain has been shutting down a lot more lately. Usually about the time one of my children throw the first question of the day at me. Usually this happens at 7:00 a.m. CST. My brain acts like a grumpy teenager refusing to respond to the question. I think it’s a faker. Playing dead. On purpose. Hoping the questioner will leave me alone and let me sleep in some more. I’m stuck telling my brain that my child wants to play on the computer because they assume it’s their turn, even though they took turns yesterday too. No answer. Nothing. An infinity loop: Can they go on the computer? Can they go on the computer? What is computer? Why am I looking and deciding computer or no?

Here is my whole point. If you’ve ever felt like a Mombie, Space Cadet, like your brain in smack middle of a busy highway, and all those other “Mom Brains” are zooming past you; if you’ve ever felt like you should be present more, more in the moment, but you can’t get a kickstart in your brain, you are not alone!

It is OKAY!

It’s OKAY to be a space cadet. To have a stuttering brain. To have the tumor called Motherhood, whatever that takes over all other cognitive functions/something just shuts down. It’s OKAY your tumor has metastasized into your heart and goes flutters. Soft. Terrified in a rapid, missed-beat succession. It’s OKAY it has moved into your lungs and affects the very air you take in.

It is OKAY!

One day your brain will be back at the front of the class. Eventually. Cross my heart. In the meantime, cut yourself some slack. We all should cut ourselves some slack.


Don’t answer that.

Have you ever felt this way? Share your “MOMBIE” experiences below. Questions. They are hard. If your brain was working at warp speed today, feel free to tell us a story about a time it was not. Like the one how you almost went to work ONLY in your tights and no skirt; haha. Classic! For the rest of us Momrades who want to encourage one another though our brains have stalled, we can just wave at one another. 🙂


Things Every Parent Should Hear


Here are some things that every parent should hear in case you are having one of those days where nothing is going your way and you need motivation.

  • YOU are a hero for you kids. You are, no matter how many kids you have. You’re the go-the-distance, fight-the-dragon, face-the-challenge hero for your kids. Taking a beating makes that only more true. Not less.
  • We all struggle. Every single parents. Everywhere. We all second-guess ourselves. We all have a time or two or more where we just want to say, “NO MORE” and quit. But we don’t. We hold the good time close. When things are tough, we remember the phrase, “This, too, shall pass.”
  • Finding the funny may not save your soul, but it will save your sanity. Maybe it’s the other way around. Whichever way it is, look for the humor. Embrace the crazy. Laughter is a lifeline.
  • Every single day, you will feel like you didn’t handle something the correct way. Almost like you’ve been impatient. Like you have misjudged. Or you’ve been too harsh. Been too lenient. You may be correct. Apologize. Just whatever. Let it go. Do not hold a grudge. It can bite you in the butt one day. Karma is not your friend.
  • The crazy. The crying. The cuddles. The screaming. The sacred. The scared. The minutes. The magic. The mess. It’s all part of life. It’s all worth it.
  • Family is the best. Family may not be perfect. It’s never perfect. Ever!
  • At the end of an organization (whatever it may be), at the end of patience, at the end of perfection, we die to only ourselves. Then love rises from the ashes. It stinks. It gets better. It stinks again. Love rises.
  • You’ll never regret parenting. Except for those teeny, tiny tons of times when you constantly and secretly wonder if you maybe regret it just a tiny bit. Majority of the time, never. Overall it is what counts in the end.
  • Look at parenting as similar as climbing a really big, gigantic mountain – say Mount Everest for example. Now once you get to the top of this mountain, look down for the base camp. This is where you will rest, meet other climbers, take in oxygen, and acclimatize. The base camp is what makes climbing gigantic mountains possible to reach the top.
  • You are not alone. You are not only in this strange, vast, parenting ocean. Even at night, when it’s pitch black and you cannot even see your own hand that is right in front of your face. You are not alone, ever!
  • Kids know the word ‘magical’ and they know how to get there. They will give you a “FREE PASS” to come along. Breathe in this magic as long and deep as you can, because this same kid that invited you will poop or pee her pants in just a second.
  • There is a fine line between enjoying chaos and barely surviving it. There’s no line, what am I talking about. It’s mixed together. You’ll never see it. It’s a lie. Maybe it’s there if you imagine one, but other than that, nope, no line.
  • If you pay attention long enough, your kids (and other people’s kids) will teach out how to laugh LOUDLY. How to love DEEPLY. How to live FULLY.  And how to ruin all of you stuff in seconds!
  • Any number of kids is a lot of kids, whether it’s an only child to four or more kids.
  • Joy. You must look for it. It could be found in the middle of the busy. Under the ridiculous. Hanging from an overwhelmed child in its underpants. Joy’s like that. In the middle of everything. Completely unpredictable. It’ll surprise you when you’re least expecting it. Kind of like your child vomit and/or diarrhea either at the same time or spaced out a couple of minutes. Except Joy is good.
  • Kids are difficult. They are gross. They are confusing. They are awesome. So are you.
  • You will fall apart. You will do it all wrong. You will forgive yourself. You will ask your children to forgive you. You will set an example of resilient fallibility. You will set an example of practicing the art of love – loving yourself and loving others. Not one single person I know has done this parenting gig right the first time. Or the last time. Or the times in between the first and the last. Showing your children how to keep on going after getting it wrong. After feeling defeated is a wonderful gift to give to them. To allow them to know “when you fall down, get back up and keep on trying.”
  • Parenting will bring you face to face with yourself. It may terrify you. It may break you. It will rebuild you. You will be stronger than ever thought possible.
  • Balancing anything is a myth. Parenting is not a tight-rope walk. It’s a dance. Strive for a rhythm in your life instead of a balance. Trust yourself to move to the ever-changing beat.
  • You will have days where you wonder where the hell the capable and organization you had went to. You will have days where you find yourself sitting on the floor if the middle of Wal-Mart near the check out area with a child who is literally screaming, throwing merchandise, calling you names, and thrashing about. You will have days where you will tell your child(ren) that the dog is not their napkin or their baby doll where you load your baby dolls up with make up and nail polish. If you don’t find yourself doing all those things, literally, then you will do it figuratively-speaking. You will hold your child(ren) while rocking back and forth letting them know that you love her. That she is safe. That you are not leaving when things get rocky. Someday she will leave you, but that’s life. That’s them growing up and figuring out life for herself. This is parenting. It’s tragic. Triumphant. Messy. Magical. Sacred. Spectacular. Always, fiercely worthwhile.

Toilet Paper vs Household

Have you ever walked into the bathroom, sat down, used the bathroom, and then when you go for that roll of toilet paper that you know you put on the roll this morning, like 10 minutes ago, see this:


NO TOILET PAPER!? Me I have! I’ve done it on several occasions this week. Actually it happened to me THIS MORNING! I know that I put a roll on it LAST NIGHT BEFORE I WENT TO BED at 2 a.m.! It was only 7:00 a.m. and there is no toilet paper!

So, the real question: Who used all the toilet paper? The children, who can be adorable are apparently feral? The husband? Or Me for failing to write the legislation appropriately? Who shall we blame?

There was actually an entire bag of toilet paper in the girl’s bathroom on Friday (today is Monday) and yet when I needed it, there was nothing to be found! It vanished. POOF! Disappeared into a white cloud of toilet paper smoke. I guess. No one, of course, did it or even witnessed the actual disappearance of the entire bag of toilet paper, let alone the toilet paper that I physically put on the toilet paper holder.

The bright side of things…my children leave their dirty clothes scattered everywhere in our hour, especially the bathroom – so any used socks and t-shirts you see where the toilet paper is lacking. I know it’s gross. I promise you I’m very well aware of the exactly how repulsive it can be to use a sweat and dirt crusted sock to wipe oneself is. But people who live in the jungle MUST use what they have, right? Yep. No judging allowed!

My mission this morning was to find the missing toilet paper. I promise that we had a bag of it in their bathroom. An entire bag, with 1 roll missing. Since I recently gave all 4 of my children the “Toilet Paper Speech” again, its absense is a mystery. At least a mystery to myself. For those of you who live pristine, lovely lives – pretty please message me all of the details because I swear on Jesus’ Holy Name I need a few precious moments to live vicariously through you. The “Toilet Paper Speech” goes something like this:

Me: Darling, darling children who I love to pieces. My sweet girls who I endlessly adore. What is toilet paper for?

My Girls: Wiping!

Me: My girls who are precious in God’s sight, what exactly do we wipe with toilet paper?

My Girls: Our butts and pooty-poos (as my 5 year old calls it)

Me: And, little ones who do not listen to their parents. Who are suppose to honor them all the days of their lives, are there exceptions to this rule?

My Girls: Yes, but only 2 exceptions.

Me: What are they?

My Girls: Wiping our pee and poop smears that happen to fall on the toilet seat. Around the toilet. When poop falls on the ground. And when we have a bloody nose.

Me: Because…

My Girls: “Thou shall not leave the bathroom without making sure there is no body fluids we are leaving behind. We are like the Marines – we never leave a man behind!

Me: And?

My Girls: We wash our hands!

Me: Yes! This is the Truth! It will make your mother less like to screech at you from the toilet. What, do we NOT use the toilet paper for?

My Girls: No cleaning the sink. No using the toilet paper as a sponge, we must not be lazy and look for the sponge. No mopping the floor with it because we are too lazy to get the mop from outside on the porch. No decorating our rooms. No giant snowball, toilet-paper fight. No hiding some outside under the porch for when we need to go and can’t make it inside. No wiping up the gallon of fruit punch juice product that we spilled all over the new, white carpet.

Me: Yes this is all true.

Together: Amen”

As you can see, we are all on a CLEAR, UNDERSTANDING of what toilet paper is used for. Toilet Paper is only used for bodily fluids and only while sitting on the toilet.

FYI – I never found the bag of toilet paper.


Any kind of truth hurts. Any kind of truth that I tell you about what my body is like after four kids and rapidly closing in on my 35th birthday hurts. I could exercise, but I could just as easy sit on my chair whining about my baby fat while shoveling down a cup of Mint Chocolate Chip or Rocky Road ice cream with sprinkles and milk. In most cases you get out a lot of what you give in and I’m okay with this. I don’t have a whole lot of room for improvement. I cannot just ignore the truth about what has happened to my body.

Here are a few of my horrid, inevitable body truths as they are today:

  • No matter how hard you try, there is no possibly way to suck in “back fat”
  • Driving in the car with the windows down and my arm up may result in severe under arm skin flapping (similar of a large gummed dog with his head out the window of a moving vehicle).
  • Due to the sheer size of my thighs, running in corduroy pants is not advised. This may result in the sparking and unintentional fires.
  • Muffin top. Must get used to it.
  • Don’t worry about the college funds. I need to start putting money into a Laser Hair Removal Fund or begin tweezing my eyebrows 2 times a day.
  • I wish I could go back in time and kick my 23-24 year old self when I was pregnant with Paige thinking that I really LOVED food. I ate everything, and I mean EVERYTHING in sight. Especially those 12 packages of Cadbury Eggs that they stick out during Easter. Or all the junk foods out of the machines where I worked. I would tell myself that one day I would wake up and realize that all this “Eating for Two” is a bunch of crap and the weight will be impossible to simply “fall off” as I was thinking back then.
  • Many areas now have the consistency of Jell-O.
  • Laughing, coughing, and/or sneezing may result in peeing in your pants!

Have you noticed any changes since you’ve been getting older? Having kids? What inevitable truth are you living with today? Leave me a comment below!

Stinky Feet

The girls have started doing something really, really weird this summer. Maybe them being weird and doing weird things is not a shock to me anymore, but to other people. That’s when the weirdness expressions usually turn from ‘uh ok’ to ‘hmm..” You get what I’m saying I’m hoping so.

Syd and Shelby have been crouching on all 4s and shoving their noses just above other family member’s feet to get a good sniff. Anyone without shoes at a family even is their target. Maybe it’s a phase. Who knows. I think I remember Paige or maybe it was Kylie that went through it. I just don’t know. I can remember milestones, birthdays, and school events; but this is a new for me. It was just a matter

They’ve taken to crouching on all fours, and shoving their nostrils above people’s feet to get a good sniff. Anyone without shoes on is a target for them…I guess it’s a phase they are going through, I’m not sure. But it was only a matter of time before they got their Dad – Imagine this (Shelby crouches down and starts to sniff the ground like a dog while making her way to Dad who is sitting in his brown recliner in the livingroom. He just took his boots off from working outside in the Texas heat. He acts like they aren’t there. Syd joines in)…

Shelby: Ugh (gagging noises start to emerge) so smelly!


Dad: What? Really? Why? Are they serious!?

Syd: Don’t worry Daddy, your feet aren’t smelly. They smell like roses!


Dad: Oh, thanks a lot!

Syd: Dad, it’s your shoes that are smelly, not your feet.

Dad: Oh ya!? Thanks!

Just for the record Dad doesn’t have smelly feet. Nor smelly shoes. But if he did, it would be from standing at work all day in steeltoe boots, running about all night and day, or jumping around so much that he looks Jim Carrey would look like if he was on ecstasy…


But he doesn’t. So it’s fine.


Endless Conversational Loops of Suburban Moms

I should really know better by now. I should know that if I leave my house to make a run to Wal-Mart or Brookshires that I will encounter at least one person who will bug me just because. During the summer I have noticed that I’ve left the house, a lot! I’ve been spending a lot of time shopping for the girl’s birthdays, shopping just because, and every 13 days spend a lot of money at Wal-Mart because Steven will be leaving the next day for his 10-hour drive across Texas and into New Mexico. I’ve ran into so many different kind of Moms blocking Wal-Mart and Brookshire’s aisles. At the same time as I’m trying to avoid these aisles, I also realize I can overhear their conversations and realize it’s the same story over and over. It’s the same story they tell All. The. Time. Regardless of “when” it happened, they are talking about it. It was just a different variation of the same conversation I heard 3 months ago. Here is a mash-up with all the topics:

  • Mary (Mom #1): We’re trying to get keep Thomas active this summer. It’s so hard because he’s in the GT program. We are unsure if he’s going to forget everything he learned last year.
  • Danielle (Mom #2): O-M-Gee! I know what you mean. Even though we decided that we were not doing the GT program. It seems like it is such a waste of their time when they are this young. Goodness, we are still struggling with finding things for Michelle to learn about. She’s ready everything the library has to offer on organic farming to alegbra to space.
  • Alexis (Mom #3): Oooo…we are very into organic farming this summer! There is a friend of the family that lives about an hour from here where you can go and harvest your own food. You pay for it by the pound. It’s an awesome and exciting deal. The kids and I spent 4 hours picking blueberries and I paid $15 for it. It was a much cooler day than today. We took water. It was great! I even took pictures for everyone to see. Do you follow me on Instagram?
  • Danielle: Aren’t you too busy to visit the farm? Tennis and golf has kept us so, super busy this summer. We barely have time for anything else.
  • Mary: I totally understand where you are coming from! Dustin is working my tail-end off! Thank God, he’s literally working my ass off! I am already down a size and I need to lose about 3 more sizes. (Note she is already so thin that it reminds you of what you were like in high school, before you had kids). I’m such a pig this summer. I ate ice cream only two times already – once in June and once in July!
  • Alexis: That’s strange. I can’t seem to keep the weight on during the summer. I guess I’m constantly on the go that I forget to eat.
  • Mary: Lucky you! I have to put in at least 2 hours each day with Dustin. I still have to watch what I eat.
  • Danielle: Ladies, Please! You both are skinny-minis! I’m the biggest of this group!
  • Alexis: Are you eating gluten-free? Since I’ve cut all wheat and processed foods from our house, we’ve all shed the weight without trying. It’s done wonders for our skin. For our hair! Look at Gracie!! Twice this week I’ve been stopped in this very Wal-Mart and asked if she was a model!
  • Mary: I know that feeling! Lizzy has been getting all compliments all week at her virtual reality gaming design camp. It must be weird for Gracie when complete strangers tell her that she can be a model!
  • Danielle: I’m with you on that! Definitely started back when Andrea was a NB! She stops traffic wherever she goes.
  • Mary: It’s been great seeing you both! We need to get together real soon and catch up some more!
  • Danielle: Definitely! We will have time in August after we get back from another vacation from Colorado.
  • Alexis: Sure sounds like fun. We’ll work something out. Lemme know a date and I’ll work from there.

And away from the aisle they leave.