Monday, October 28, 2013

All Good Things Must Come to an End.........INDEFINITELY

Hi All,

Due to: MAJOR sleep deprivation, being a stay-at-home mom (with 2 young kiddos), being a full-time maid, nurse and LAUNDRESS (I can't get over all of the bedding I am always washing), I've decided to suspend writing this blog indefinitely.  Do I have an idea for how long?  Honestly, I have no clue, maybe after we get Connor's Continuous Glucose Monitor up & running, and are finally getting sleep around here. 
I have thoroughly enjoyed writing this blog and hope that you've enjoyed reading it!  To the 5 individuals that checked my blog on a regular basis (hi Mom & Todd) and the other 3 (they know who they are), thank you so much for reading, I greatly appreciate it!!!

I hope to get back into blogging once I am getting some sleep with regularity, and once a sense of "normalcy" has been restored in my household.

Love, love, love this song!

May God bless all of you, thanks again for visiting and I hope to be back soon! :)

Friday, October 25, 2013


The characters and incidences depicted in this post are based on true events that occurred during the weekend of October 6, 2013.

10:43AM.  It was 10:43AM when I looked at the oven's digital clock, and thought, it's too early, it is absolutely too early.  I was contemplating if, and how much, I could possibly drink to numb my brain from the onslaught that was about to occur.  You have scruples Megan, and you can't get liquored up before 4:00pm - this is one of your steadfast rules!  I looked back at my husband, and immediately flashbacked to our wedding day, more specifically, the exchanging of the vows.  "Do you Todd, take Megan, to have and to hold from this day forward?"  I do.  "Do you Megan, agree to go to Costco with Todd on a Sunday morning?"  Screech, like a record abruptly stopping.  "Hold up, no, no, Mr. Preacher-man-that-I-hired-just-for-this-wedding-because-I-don't-go-to-church, I do NOT!"

"Come on, babe, I really can't go alone, pleeeeaaaaassssseee!!!," he pled with me.  I sighed, and once again declared how much I dreaded this trip.  "I like, really, really, really don't want to go, I mean, 110% of my person is not interested, it's no good for me, it's no good for me."  "It won't be so bad," he told me.


As we entered through the sliding glass doors, my husband proudly whipped out his exclusive Costco membership card and flashed the attendant a bright smile.  "We really have to get you a membership card babe, this way you can come here on your own!"  I am not positive about this, but I think during the membership process, they either performed a lobotomy on my husband, or offered him some "Kool-Aid" to drink, 'cause he has been a roving Costco advertisement since signing up.  As we walk in, we are greeted by hundreds of patrons and stacks upon stacks of "things."  The "things" had large price tags hanging from them boasting big savings.  The first item we pass is marked-down with a whopping $.07 off, it was now only $678.93.  With that type of savings, a crowd of 20 people were drawn and were standing around, contemplating in silence whether 3 cents off was really worth it.  With one glance at this buffoonery, I confronted my soul and gave it a stern warning: "Soul, you have just entered a location that is the epitome of Amurica's materialism & commercialism....welcome to consumerism hell baby, hold on, it's going to be a rocky ride!"

With our grocery list in hand, we began to immediately dodge carts and patrons.  Trying to get through the main corridor required the agility and sprightliness only found in a young marmot, so we tapped into the animalistic area of our cerebellums and proceeded to move forward.  Not too far down the main corridor, and voila, there she was.  She was around 67 years of age, sported a fancy hair net, a navyblue button-down coat, she was, and is, physically, every child's ideal grandma.  Her name tag read "Martha," and she was quickly lining her station with little cup-size servings of deliciousness.  That Sunday morning, Martha was servin' up some Korean wontons.  I innocently grabbed 2 cups for my children, they rather quickly sucked 'em down, then proceeded to lick and savor every last bit of wonton morsel left in their cups.  No sooner had we passed Martha's station, when my 1-year-old spotted one of Martha's friends servin' up something amazing at her station.  My daughter began to reach and screech for the cups at this particular station.  8 seconds later and she was literally hanging, suspended in the air by her cart lap belt, prepared to commit suicide to get her hands on those cups. "Relax, Chels!"  I got over to Bertha as fast I could and noticed that she was offering bright-red organic juice, "oh sweet Jesus, this will not be pretty", I thought.  I handed the cups over to my offspring, and within .0222 nanoseconds, my daughter was covered in red juice from her mouth down to her knees, she looked as though she had just slaughtered a large buffalo.  "Crap, babe, look at her, she's a mess!"  I began to coach myself, "move on, Megan, press on, the faster you go, the sooner you can leave!!!"  All the while, we were incessantly dodging shopping cart after shopping cart.....I was in a real-life-man-made game of dodge ball.  Very loudly Chelsea began to yell again, "MAMA, MAMA, AHHHHHHHH," she was screaming and pointing in the direction that I was to head.  Lo and behold, it was another one of Martha's friends; goodness, these b&t*%s were everywhere, I thought!  This lady had little cups of chocolate brownie goodness, her name was Susan.  Promptly after their first bite, my children looked possessed, began to froth at the mouth.  Knowing they were ready to gnaw off Susan's fingers to get another 2 cups each, I quickly pushed the shopping cart out of reach of Susan (you're welcome, Susan!).  That's when I realized what was really going on.  Martha, Bertha, Susan, and their posse of cute-innocent-grandma-types were serving-up "food" laced with children were a couple of fiends looking for their next fix.  I looked Susan in the eye, deep in the eye, she then knew that I knew about these little "food stations" (aka as crack stations) and their reindeer games masterminded by their employer, Costco.  Not cool Susan, so not cool!

I began to fade fast, my inability to get from point A to B without drawing a detailed map, playing dodge-ball with my cart, my cracked-out kids, and the stimulus overload, had my patience flickering like a flame in a breeze.

We were quickly approaching the section of the store that I've affectionately coined the "war zone" Costco has lovingly placed ALL things important, dairy, fruits, vegetables, meat, in a small, made to piss you off, 5x5 section.  It is bumper cars for carts.  And, it is my worst f&%#$ng nightmare!

Whilst attempting to navigate toward the cheese section, I was abruptly rammed in the ass by a boy maneuvering a double-wide cart who appeared to be about 10.  He was as surprised at the ass ramming as I was.  I didn't want to destroy his tender developing ego, so I forced a small polite smile that probably conveyed the wrong message....that I enjoy large mobile metal boxes making unexpected contact with my ass.  "Press on Megan, press on," I told myself.

We finally had made it to the center of the 5x5 "war zone".  Like being in the eye of a hurricane, I was dead smack center amidst complete chaos.  My husband needed to fetch a few items.  I quickly found myself amongst roughly 9,000 carts.  I did not fit.  I was in the way.  No matter where I positioned my cart, I knew that I pretty much needed to vaporize in order to "fit" into this area.  I looked my children in the eyes, "hold on guys, do not move, I will position you against this wall of boxes, it's important that you stay verrrry still, keep your hands inside of the cart, do you understand?"  At that moment, I knew what I had to do, so I did it. I found myself face forward, entire body pressed against a tower of boxes that was holding the California Grapes.  From the back it appeared that I was either a) about to have a hot make-out session with the grapes or b) ready to be frisked.  "Think small, Megan, think small!  If you exhale the air from your lungs, and don't breath in, then your body will be 1/97th smaller and maybe you won't get rammed in the ass by another double-wide shopping cart.  Think small!"  The tower of grapes stopped at my boobs.  My husband looked back to check on me and saw one extremely evil wife face.....if he could only hear my thoughts, if only.  My husband grabbed the celery, dodged 18 carts and got back to me.  "Sorry about that babe, I thought I could just reach right in and grab the celery."  So you thought that you'd be able to just grab some food here at the grocery store, that's very odd thinking!  You paid money to join this giant warehouse of 59,800 consumers, and now must wait on line to grab celery.  Celery.

It took us about 3 minutes to get over to an aisle of only 42 people, ahhhh, I could finally breathe!  My face said it all, I wanted out, I wanted out badly, and I was willing to skin a cat to get there.  Then it happened.  My husband stated, "Oh, I forgot the Frank's Grape Leaves."  From the pit of my stomach, I let out a guttural slow motion F&*$ (you know that word)!!!!!  I do not cuss in front of my children, but it happened that day, as I was not going back into that "war zone", no way, not in this lifetime, not in a past life, and if I reincarnate, then not in a future lifetime.  NEVER.  You see, the Frank's Grape Leaves are located in the center of the "war zone".  Dead center.  Then, Todd was greeted by this face below, and he quickly made a very smart decision:

"I will go by myself, you and the kids stay right here, try to hold down the fort, I love you!"  I watched as he slowly walked away from me, like a bride from the civil war era, I didn't know how long it would be before he returned, or if he ever would return.  We watched as he literally dove into the middle of the war zone, he dodged bullets, bombs and flying limbs.  Approximately 2 1/2 minutes later, he returned clutching the Frank's Grape Leaves like the football in the Heisman trophy. 

We safely walked the perimeter, and made it to the most quiet and tranquil section of the entire warehouse, right in front of the kitty litter.  Seriously, if you need to take a breather while you're in Costco, immediately look for the Fresh Step Cat Litter.  Apparently, nobody at Costco needs cat litter, and you can stand there for several minutes and decompress. 

We referred back to our grocery list once we arrived at the household section.  "Okay, we need shampoo and straws," I said.  As I went to grab for the 2 gallon bottle of Herbal Essences, I thought, "hmmm, this is going to require the strength of 2 Jack LaLannes every time I need to shampoo my locks."  No thanks.  "Babe, we are getting our shampoo from Target instead!," I adamantly declared.  Next, on to the straws.  My husband grabbed for 1 package......12,000 straws.  "Is this all that they sell?," I inquired.  Yes.
We will never, and I mean never, have a straw shortage in my household again!  Thank you Costco, for selling everything in such great bulk that we now have lifetime supplies of items we'd never dream of possessing in such abundance!

My husband turned and looked at me, "babe, we totally forgot to grab the frozen bag of chicken."  "You have a choice, either you can go, or I can go," he said.  One look at my cracked-out kids and I chose to go back near the "war zone".  Together we came up with a game plan and per my husband's instructions, I was to do the, you're gonna want to run on the far perimeter of the warehouse until you are 2 aisles down from the back, hang a sharp left at that point, do a side-step shimmy along the far wall, one ballet pirouette, and then veer right to make contact with the frozen chicken section.  "Got it," I proclaimed!  As I approached the chicken section, I got a whiff of something amazing, I couldn't ignore it, oh wow, it was seafood.  There she was, another lady in a hairnet and navyblue coat, her name was Debbie, and she was serving something that I couldn't resist.  "Hi, hun, here you go!", she handed me a small bite-size chunk of a Phillips crab cake.  IT.WAS.INCREDIBLE.  I grabbed for the bag of chicken, but my mind said crab.  I made it back to our shopping cart and promptly informed my husband that no matter the cost, we HAD to get back to the freezer section to buy Phillips crab cakes.  "Why?" he asked.  "It's not important, don't worry about it," I said.  I knew what Debbie had done to me, I was ashamed at that point, I was craving crab from the tips of my toes to the split-ends of my hair.  I forced my husband back to the frozen section.  Oh.My.God!  I stopped dead in my tracks, there, in front of the Phillips crab cakes was a line the size of the Great Wall of China.  I looked around at this line of pitiful souls that had also tasted a chunk of Debbie's "magical crab cakes".  Like finding rice during a famine, we all had to have it, it was gold.

I realized that the Phillips crab cakes had become my 'precious' and that I was willing to do the unthinkable, stand on-line for 8 minutes, in order to obtain a box of them.  My children looked at me with their red-juice-covered-faces, big blue eyes, and hour-old brownie crumbs sprinkled on their laps.  I felt guilty, and one more look at their sad and confused faces, I knew what they were thinking, "where has our mommy gone?"  I dug deep and gave myself a pep-talk, "Megan, who have you become?  I spoke to my soul, do not allow Debbie, Martha and the rest of this evil Costco gang, to lure you in, you are better than this!"  I slowly retreated back to our shopping cart.  "Let's go to the checkout line and pay, babe."  Getting to the checkout line proved to be extremely tricky, as Martha's wontons were a big hit at this point and the masses created a line that blocked the main corridor.
After snaking around the perimeter, I began to hyperventilate once I saw the 200-person-deep check-out line.  For 12 minutes we stood on that line.  During that time, I dodged carts, tried to keep my crazed children (who were facing the massive candy section), to remain in the cart.  I was impressed with how strategically placed this monumental candy section was: right next to the check-out line.  Good work, Costco!  This 100% guaranteed that us parents had no option but to repeatedly deny our children the high fructose corn syrup that they so desperately crave.  I quietly said multiple prayers for patience and sanity during that time on-line. 
We made it through.  As we passed the over-crowded food court on our left, I yawned, my children yawned.  We were weary soldiers that had made it to the 'other side'.  Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, fatigue and hunger were setting in.  Before departing through the sliding glass doors, we followed proper Costco protocol, and showed our receipt to an attendant to confirm that we hadn't pilfered any crab cakes, brownies or red organic juice. 
Once the sunlight hit my face, I knew that I had officially made it out, that I was going to be okay.
Never again Costco, never ever again. 
Disclaimer: If you run into my husband at the Leesburg, Virginia Costco, and he is purchasing Phillips crab cakes, it wasn't per my directive ;).

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Fun Run

Laces tied?  Check.  Yoga pants on?  Check.  Sports bra on to control my lady parts?  Check.  Now repeat to yourself 29 times, "girl you've got this.....girl you've got this."  I am 87 seconds into my "run" when, "oh God, wow this hurts, this is not natural, oh heeeelllllssss no, your brain is commanding you to make this stop, you must listen Megan, you must stop this insanity!"  Aaaannnnd, I stop.  Friends, I am training for a 5k.  Some of us do not require "training" for a 5k, but if you are me, you could "train" your entire life and still run that 3.1 miles (who's counting?) in 1 hour and 39 minutes.  Let me explain.

There are many God-given talents that were NOT bestowed upon me, but there are four in particular that I am truly disappointed that I missed out on.  Most people have at least 1 of the talents listed on my I-wish-I-had-one-of-these-talents-in-life list below, and if you have more than 1 on my list, then I hate you.  Apparently, God thought that it would be amusing to watch me awkwardly go through life, pretty much talentless and always trying.  In the "talents" department, God gave me the ability to produce wild dance moves that emerge the moment I hear the beat of any that even a talent or skill, I don't know!?!  That's it, that concludes my list of God-given talents.

Talents that I'd kill for:

1) Ability to Sing (well that is).  I can sing "well" if the music is turned up to 92 decibels OR if I'm in the shower and the water has greatly muffled my hearing.  I sound really amazing in the shower!  It's just really bad all across the board.  You would pay me big bucks to stop.  It's a killer combination of not remembering ANY lyrics to any song, or singing the wrong lyrics to any song, being tone deaf, sounding nasaly and having no octave/vocal range. At all.

2) Artistic ability - I am pretty much limited to drawing stick figures at this point in my life.  Did you know that one can actually lose the teensy tiny bit of ability that one had from childhood?  I didn't know that this was possible considering I didn't start out with much to begin with.  I guess I had practiced drawing enough flowers, hearts and rainbows as a child, that I became pretty darn good at them.  Now, at age 32, my 4-year-old requests that I draw him things at random and I'm like "oh, $hit, this is going to be bad."  Nobody can discern what the hell I am drawing and even the most creative 4-year-old mind gets frustrated...."Mom, I told you that I wanted you to draw a dog!"  "That is a dog, Connor!"  "No, that looks like a turtle, Mom (in a frustrated voice)!!!"  I know for a fact that I could draw a recognizable dog at age 12.......stick figures, stick figures, that's what I'm sticking with from now on.

3) Public Speaking - I.WOULD.RATHER.DIE.OR.GO.TO.THE.DENTIST.  If there are more than 2 people looking at me while I am speaking, then I stop.  I am not kidding.  Public speaking tries to ruin my life, but I won't let it.  No siree Bob!  True story - in college I would check the syllabus first thing and look for the words "presentation/group presentation" and do the skedaddle and drop that class as fast as a hot plate. 
Can I tell you, the sick ba$tards at my college made Oral Communications (aka Public Speaking) mandatory.  What kind of perverse twisted minds get together and come up with this crap?   I would LOVE to meet the individual that decided to make public speaking mandatory in order for me to graduate!  I can picture the University Dean and his minions sitting around a board room table discussing it,  "Let's go ahead and force our students to face one of their greatest fears."  "That sounds like a swell idea, Mike, would do you have in mind?"  "Public speaking."  "Awww, yea, Mike, perfect, and we'll just make it mandatory in order for them to graduate!"  Then Steve says, "Mike, next year we'll make bungee jumping from the Empire State Building mandatory, and the following year, each student will need to be placed in a pit of 10 snakes in order to graduate."  "Steve, you've outdone yourself on this one, our students are going to be warriors after they face their greatest fears," says Mike! 
I mean, I have used Biology 101, Psychology 101, and even Underwater Basketweaving 101 more daily than I have used my Oral Communications.
You better believe that I saved that damn class for the last semester of my senior year.  My very last semester.  It was me and 30 freshmen.  It was ugly.  I barely received a C-, and I'm pretty certain that the professor just felt bad for me and gave me that grade.  I would stand up there sweating profusely, so overcome by adrenaline that I wouldn't even know my own name and would robotically read each word verbatim on the paper held by my shaky hand.  I was monotone.  My Sympathetic Nervous System had kicked in, I was ready for fight or mouth would be so parched that I began to resemble Fire Marshall Bill.
 in living color fire marshall bill jim carrey
Look up, you're supposed to look up, DO IT, I'd tell myself, you're grade is contingent on eye contact.  So, I'd awkwardly look up in the middle of the word "and".  A----look up---ND.  I'd look back down at my paper to quickly realize that I had lost my spot because there were roughly 104 "ands" on the page.  Damnit!!!  Why did I pick the word "and" to look-up during?  For an awkward and painful 61 silent seconds, all eyes in the room would stare at me, just waiting, as I frantically scoured the page for that "and" that I had been on.  Due to the long excruciating silence that I had just caused, I'd now begin to stutter on every word.  This is how every speech went.  Every damn speech.  The professor promised it would get easier and easier after every speech, but she had fed me sweet lies.  I was as bad on my first speech as I was on my 8th.  I still have nightmares about that class!  If you have the ability to stand-up in front of others and not give a $hit what anyone thinks of you and just ramble on and are comfortable in your skin.....YOU ARE A REMARKABLE HUMAN BEING AND I WISH THAT I WAS YOU!


4) Running/endurance.  I will begin by saying that it's a blessing that I was born in 1981 outside of a large metropolitan area.  I grew up in an area where grocery stores, convenient stores and public transportation could be found in great abundance.  I am white, I am Irish, and I was not built for long distance running.  I know for a fact that I would have either starved to death or been quickly mauled by some wild animal had I been born in let's say 1861 in the African Savanna.  One look at me, and you know that my Irish ass would die in the Savanna.  I was physically built to visit local grocery stores and spend way too much time staring at what fruits and vegetables are best out of produce bins.  My Irish ancestors, with a twinkle in their eyes, and love in their hearts, drank their Guinness beer, listened to "Oh Danny Boy", and ate their corned beef and cabbage (and lots and lots of potatoes).  I blame my lineage for my lack of endurance and running inability, I was built for eating, drinking and being 'merry'!  I don't think an Irish won a long distance run in the Olympics EVER....actually, I'm going to Google that for confirmation.....okay, I stand corrected, an Irish woman placed 2nd in 2000, but I'm thinking she isn't 100% Irish.
You see, I aspire to be a runner, I have for most of my days.  I tried to run cross-country for 1 year in high school (tried is the operative word).  It was mugly!  I was always the 2nd to last one to cross the finish line and I would be huffing and puffing from a last minute sprint with the "other runner" to ensure that I wasn't the last to finish.  Don't get me wrong, I am fast, but for a total of 9 seconds, and then I am officially maxed out.  Done.  I have no endurance, at all, and no matter how hard and long I practice, I just can't tap into that special part of the brain that ignores the physical discomfort and pushes on.  I think that I don't have that part of my brain.  I remember in elementary school, when the PE teacher informed us that it was a Fun Run day (we had to run 1 mile), I would give her the stink eye and wonder how she could be so evil.  Nobody, and I mean nobody, should have FUN and RUN in the same sentence, I realize that it rhymes, but that is no excuse, because there is nothing fun about running!
Not only do I have a mental issue with running, I am somewhat limited physically, as I have sports induced asthma.  If I exert myself to a point, I can trigger a lengthy attack = horrible!  I don't know what is more painful, watching me run, or me actually running.  In order to take in more oxygen I tend to run with my head back and mouth open, not so pretty.  I also have a tendency to experience what I call "lizard tongue".  I've done "lizard tongue" since I was a little kid; while I played Atari or Nintendo, I not only moved the controller in the direction that I wanted to go, but my tongue would emerge and also move in the direction that I was looking to go.  It was an all-body attempt at getting Mario where he needed to go, including that tongue of mine.  While running, the tongue emerges if I'm really pushing myself to aid me in the direction that I am heading.  Lastly, my legs feel like lead, they are heavy and they are dragging, so the "run" quickly turns into a shuffle at the 1 minute mark.

A White-Throated Savanna Monitor Lizard Flicks Out its Long Blue Forked Tongue Photographic Print

For the next 2 weeks I will be out there on the mean streets of Purcellville trying to "correct & defy" my inability to run.  I've got my head tilted back, the "lizard tongue" out, a look of absolute despair on my face and those heavy feet of mine are dragging.  If you see me out there during the next 2 weeks, give me a honk and a wave and say a prayer for me, I'll need it!

Running on Empty.........:

Saturday, October 19, 2013


I walked into the small bar and was immediately greeted by my 2 beautiful girlfriends.  There was a live musician and 20 beers on tap.  We ordered our drinks, sat down at our round table and began to make small chat.  We were 10 minutes into the conversation when I informed them that I had signed up for a 5k.  And that's how it began.  "I just want to lose 10 pounds of baby weight," said one.  The other chimed in, "I have just five pounds to lose, but I want to tone-up."  "Same here, I said, five pounds and to tone-up!"  We shared and laughed about how much pregnancy and motherhood changed our bodies.  "My breasts and butt went south, and now I have rolls on my stomach."  "Me too, I really need to tone my stomach", I added.  We all concurred, pregnancy hadn't done our bodies any favors.  We then chuckled about how giddy we get by going to the grocery store alone, or how awesome it is when our husbands take charge of bedtime duties.  As I sat there and looked at my 2 beautiful friends, I realized something, that we were exactly the same, that motherhood had "made us the same".  We had different journeys to motherhood, IVF vs. natural conception, C-section vs. natural birth, big babies vs. tiny babies, but we had been transformed in the same way regardless of our journey.  Strip away all socioeconomic differences, religious convictions, political beliefs, education levels, homes, clothing, credit cards and fancy cars, and we are all the same.

Any mother, anywhere, anytime, without ever having met her, I already know her, and she already knows me.

I know that the day her baby was placed in her arms, an overwhelming sense of awe overcame her and that she couldn't take her eyes of her miracle.
I know that with the gift of motherhood she feels an incredible sense of responsibility for the health, happiness and well-being for that child and that she frequently questions if she is doing it right.
I know that she second-guesses herself all day long regarding discipline.  Was that too much?  Was that not enough?  Am I doing this right? 
I know that she frequently gives the food off her own plate to satisfy her child.  I know that it is a treat to sit down and finish a meal without getting up, as tending to her child is her job.
I know that she gets excited to go to the bathroom or shower alone, as her child is never out of her sight and a little bit of privacy makes her feel like a queen.
I know that she stands in Target and inspects diapers, wipes, baby food labels, body wash ingredients to ensure that she is providing nothing but the safest and the best for her child.
I know that she double-checks her child's car-seat for safety, ties his/her shoes, and repeats 100 times per day 'to be careful', as keeping her child safe and out of harm is her #1 concern.
I know that she has cried tears from frustration, maybe 10 nights of a teething baby + temper tantrums has broke her and she feels like she desperately needs a break.
I know that some days she feels like her identity was robbed.......she doesn't see her friends anymore, she wears yoga pants and snot everyday, and she doesn't have time to do the things that she used to enjoy.
I know that whether she's a stay-at-home mom or working full-time, she feels very pulled and questions her choice everyday.
I know that she has been grossed out countless times by the bodily "waste" produced by her child....vomit, snot, soiled diapers, yet she has cleaned the "waste" a million times and immediately turns around and hugs and loves that child regardless of anything "gross".
I know that she has hopes and aspirations for her child that may be unrealistic, and that she will be that child's cheerleader regardless of where life may take them and despite bad decisions.  She will just hope and pray that they land on their feet and are happy.
I know that she loved her child so immensely that deciding to have her 2nd child was more about giving her 1st child a sibling in life and less about her wanting 'more'.
I know that her soul feels incredible joy when the sound of her child's booming belly-laugh fills her home.
I know that her heart fluttered from pure happiness for every milestone that was met, every homerun hit, and A+ received, and that nothing can top how proud she feels during those moments.
I know that she has a deep appreciation for her own mother 25 years later, and turns to her for advice, guidance and for a shoulder to cry on.  I know that she hopes that she can make as much of an impact on her children and be as amazing as her mother was.
I know that she feels lonely at times, whether it's due to her husband working long hours, or due to a restricted and regimented schedule for her children, her days alone are hard.
I know that she is hit with the deepest sorrow that sends chills down her spine upon hearing of a family losing a child, as this is her greatest fear and it saddens her that another mother's "greatest fear" has been realized.
I know that she can't sleep if her child is sick, and that she'll stay up all night checking temperatures and holding her child's tiny fingers until she is positive her child will be okay.
I know that as she toils over the details of her child's birthday party; the appetizers, the goodie bags, the venue, that a part of her heart is aching.  As 1 more year has passed, her child is slowly inching away from her.  She knows that her child will be independent and no longer "need" her one day, and as she celebrates, her heart cannot ignore that sense of inching away slowly.
I know that no matter what kind of day she had, hearing her child say "I love you mommy!," made it all better.  It felt like the most important boss she ever had just reassured her that she is doing a great job!
I know that she worries all day long.  Is she feeding her child healthfully enough?  Is she teaching them enough?  Did they watch too much television?  Do they need a bath, it has been 2 days since their last bath?
I know that when her child cries with a broken heart, that this is the most crushing blow to her heart, and that she wants nothing more than to make her child's heart whole again and make this world a loving place.
I know that she worries about her child fitting in at school, in society?  Will they be well-liked?
I know that when her child hugs her, that she's perplexed how 2 of the tiniest arms that were ever wrapped around her are able to feel like the biggest, warmest and most comfortable hug that she ever received.
I know that she would without hesitation give her life for her child.
 Mother and Child 300x379 Mother and Child  photo

I know all of these things about her and she knows them of me.  We are the same in our hopes, worries, fears and joys that we have experienced as mothers.  We are moms, and motherhood has not only transformed our bodies, but our minds and souls as well.  We may work tirelessly to regress to our pre-child bodies, to tone-up, to lose those 5 pounds.  However, it is our hearts and souls that have been permanently transformed, and I know that not one of us would choose to go back, to be our pre-child selves.  I know that each of us are so incredibly grateful to have become the individual that motherhood turned us into.  Like a caterpillar to a beautiful butterfly, we have been permanently transformed and will never look back.

For every mama out there, Kanye had the best song for you:

Friday, October 18, 2013

Almost Heaven

 We are incredibly lucky because we live only 30 minutes away from one of the neatest little nooks of the world that I have ever seen.  It is a place where the mountains meet the sky, the mountains meet the river, the city meets the mountains, and the old meets the new.  It is a place where two rivers converge & the railroad still runs adjacent to them.  It is a Historical National Park that also boasts bars and restaurants.  The old cottage homes, ironwork and stone facades have been preserved so incredibly well, that it feels as though you stepped back in time 200 years...and yet you have the serene views of mountains as a backdrop.  One can go for an intense all-day hike and descend from the mountain and grab a cold beer. 
It is Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, and it is such an incredibly neat place to visit!  We have been a few times, but our recent trip to the tiny downtown area 2 weekends ago was just magical!  I kept telling my husband that I had never seen anything like's like Narnia!  It didn't hurt that we visited during the furlough, so much of the National Park was closed, thus keeping the crowds away.  The downtown area is virtually carved into the side of mountains and there are about 10 steep stairwells to get around.  I took dozens of pictures, but they just didn't do my surroundings any justice!

Little bit jealous of this garden:

Prettiest little cottage you ever did see (the owner was outside and I didn't want to be too creepy and take close pictures):

The remains of an old Episcopalian church:


I love how the church cross looks as though it's reaching toward the blue heavens in this picture:

A beautiful Catholic church built in the early 1800s:

These homes were carved into the mountainside (at many points, you were standing at the same height as house roof):

The stone steps were incredibly steep (giving this mama a near heart attack):

These railroad tracks are still being used to this day:

Ivy covers many of the wood and stone walls:

How incredible is this ironwork?  Gates/fences aren't made with such beautiful detail anymore:

Loved this old fire hydrant, the teal, rusty orange and red hues made it like a piece of art:

I feel like John Denver had visited Harper's Ferry, he even made a song about it ;):
Have a great weekend!

Thursday, October 17, 2013


Good Morning Friends!

The blog post I intended to share with you today can wait until tomorrow.  I am going to share a story of epic failure, of a woman who had great aspirations, big plans, and eventually succumbed to pure and utter physical exhaustion.

I woke up at 6:59am this morning, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, ready to be a #1 Mom and to take on the world (or just my household, really, which feels like the world sometimes).  You see, I fell asleep at about 9:03pm last night.....I didn't mean to, it happened by accident, and my friends, it was GLORIOUS!

My husband and I are on a weird schedule and I can see how it developed over the years.  You see, once your child gets to be around 2 1/2, it is VERY difficult to have conversations, let alone finish sentences.  They will "conveniently" keep interrupting you, they either need something, want you to play, to listen to them....they more or less want the attention that you are directing toward another adult focused solely on THEM.  You work tirelessly for years to correct that behavior, "no interrupting, wait until Mommy is finished please!"  They just keep doing it.  At the dinner table, you no sooner finish reminding child #1 to wait his/her turn, when child #2 starts making loud pterodactyl-like noises, so once again it is virtually pointless to try to converse.  We have tried everything, we just can't talk!  My husband and I know that we cannot talk to each other until the children are in bed.  Post-bedtime is really big for me, it's MY time, I do crazy things like watch a TV show that I want to watch, talk to my husband, wash the dinner dishes, finish up laundry, take a long shower, pretty awesome, huh? 

Another issue that is contributing to late nights is the constant blood checks that I referred to in my last post here.  My husband and I have been going to bed anywhere from 12:00am - 1:00am every night, partially to accommodate those blood checks.  I also wake up 2-3 times after going to bed at 1:00am to check him.  I am back up by 7:00am most mornings, and as you can probably guess, this schedule is taking its toll on me!  I am never refreshed upon waking, I drink 2 cups of coffee per day and honestly, I am just dragging!  I was so short-tempered, strict and hyper-critical with my son yesterday (he was just being a typical 4-year-old), and I knew all along that it was ME that was being unreasonable.  By 9:00pm last night, my body and mind were so exhausted that when I went into my bedroom to grab my phone, I thought, "hmmmm, let me just lay my head on my pillow for 2 minutes."  That was the last thing I remember.  I woke up this morning and belly-laughed with my son, snuggled my daughter, and just feel so refreshed and energized! 

I needed last night to happen as a reminder to take care of myself!  I have been pushing myself for the past year, I make myself feel guilty for not doing the dishes, not checking Connor's blood enough, not finishing the laundry created that day, not spending more time with my husband......but you know what, I cannot give to everyone else unless I'm taking care of myself!  This is my new motto.  I am ready to be the MOM, WIFE, PANCREAS, MAID, COOK AND PLAYMATE today because I got enough rest, because I took care of myself.  I had big plans last night to get things done, but I am so happy that they were neglected! 

In an effort to keep my blog real and not sugar-coated, this is what I woke up to this morning, HAHAHAH, GOD.BLESS.AMERICA. (75% of these dishes are currently being washed in the dishwasher as I type.....the work will always be there, it can wait, hopefully I haven't invited every rodent in a 9 mile radius to my home by leaving them).

So, I am off to go on a walk with my all of you Moms/Dads out there, workaholics, or for those of you just juggling a million things in life, don't neglect yourself, it's easy to do, be sure to make time just to SLEEP!

I LOVE this song by Allen Stone (I thought of it this morning upon waking):