How do I love you? Let me count the ways.

Far away and long ago there was a time when women were seen, and not heard. They had no rights unless their husband gave them. The sole purpose of a woman was to be a good wife, and a good mother. Keep the house clean, raise the children, and keep their husbands happy.

That was long, Long, LONG ago. Maybe not so far off when you look at a timeline, but most definitely an alternate reality in which most of us live these days. In fact, the more time passes the more the roles of men and women shift. Men are staying at home with the kiddos while the women are ruling over the high powered job fields. While this is perfectly ok, and certainly works for some families, Husband told me long ago that if I didn't want to work, I would not have to. So I don't. This seems to be the best fit for our family, and I enjoy (ok, I tolerate) the day in and day out of keeping up with our house. 

However, it has taken me quite some time to adjust my attitude about being at home. To realize that just because Husband leaves every day to go to work does not mean he's off having a jolly 'ole time while I sit at home trapped with our children. More often than not I would find myself (and sometimes still do) being resentful of the ability to just get up and go, no strings attached, and leave the house each day. I would stew, frequently getting more and more irritated as the day passed at the fact that he got to go to work instead of being home breaking up fights and wiping baby butts all day long. The more irritated I became, the more I would find myself taking out my frustration on the one person who had given me what I wanted. Husband.

Now, this is where things get real personal, real quick. Because if there is one thing that women are guilty of, myself included, it is becoming an Emasculating Biotch with no self control. I have rid myself of a lot of these nasty habits over the course of the last five years, but the list of things I would do included the following:

*Vent to my family about Husband.

*Vent to HUSBAND'S family about Husband (big no-no friends, Big No-No)

*Nitpick at every single thing Husband did from the time he came home to the time we went to bed.

*Pout very obviously in front of whomever we were spending our time with, and then when asked what was wrong very pointedly direct a look at Husband, while saying in a tone that almost dripped with acid that "Nothing is wrong."

*Focus on the things about Husband that irritated me.

*Refuse to see the good in the things that he would do for me.

*Never say thank you to Husband for the things that he would do for me.

*Literally NEVER apologize even when I was in the wrong, but expected it from Husband.

*Could not in any way, shape, fashion or form see that Husband just viewed things different than I did. He was wrong, I was right, nothing could change my mind about it.

*Follow a fight

*Start fights

*Make Husband finish fights.

Now I could probably keep going, but I would hate for you to focus on the "old me" too much, because then you might forget how charming I am now. Many of these things were a habit early on in our marriage.

But I digress. Back to women being guilty of emasculating their husbands. I know, obviously, that is hard when you first marry a person and then life hits you in the face, to always be the person your spouse married. I have changed in many, Many ways in the last five years. Now, instead of doing the things on the list above, I try to focus on other things. This is not always easy, and I still from time to time do every single thing on this list at some point or another. I am human. Habits are hard to break. But every single day I make it a point to take note when I do one of these things, and try to counteract it with a positive and uplifting action. IF I catch myself talking negatively about Husband (which is rare these days, because the man is damn near perfect) I stop myself, apologize to the person I was speaking to, and remind not only myself but them as well of how good he is. Because you never want to leave a person with a negative thought being the last thing they hear you say about your significant other. Not only is that detrimental to your own relationship, it is detrimental to THEIR relationship. And really, do you want that to come back and bite you in the ass?

So what I'm saying here ladies, is that we have to be the women our husbands fell in love with. We have to remember every day that he is the man we fell for. Every day we have to strive harder and harder to put him up instead of down. I suck at this almost every day. Seriously, ask Husband, he'll tell you a lighthearted joke about how I really am an Ice Queen. (I know, it's hard to believe, but really I lack a lot of positive emotions) But I am trying. So to end this delightful post about how we Do Not Hate on Husbands here is a list of all the things that I love about my man.

He makes me laugh.

He looks nerdy in his glasses and I think it's Hawt.

He has incredibly shmexy arms. (Muscles are yummy)

He is an amazing Daddy.

He looks adorable curled up with the baby in his arms.

He cooks meals at least twice a week.

He gives me my "me time" at minimum every other day.

He gets better and better every day at not grumbling when I ask him not to play video games.

He watches t.v. shows that I like, with me, and never skips ahead without me. (Yeah, I'm totes guilty of that one)

He treats his family (mom, dad, sisters and so on) with respect and love. (You know what they say, if he treats his mama good, he'll treat you good)

He works his ass off to provide for us.

He reminds me to treat myself every now and again.

He puts his wants last.

He indulges my scattered compulsions to undertake new hobbies.

He kisses me goodnight EVERY night.

He kisses me goodbye before he leaves for work.

ok...he kisses me ;)

Why I don't believe half of what I see on Facebook.

Social networking is, at its best, a prime example for misrepresentation. You only see the good pictures, (you know the ones where the profile owner DOESN'T look fat...) you see thousands of adorable kids pictures (you know, the ones where they are grinning and happy with melty ice cream in their hands instead of the ones where they are on the floor half naked screaming bloody murder as you stand over them literally pulling your hair out.), and generally you only hear about the negative going on in someone's life if it is not too personal and requires offering condolences.

See, I do not buy into the social networking bullshit. Not one mother out there loves to be a mother every single second of the day. Unless of course I am alone in this boat, and if so, stop reading now before you get the idea that I'm a horrible individual. See, I reached the point of motherhood where my kids aren't just sitting there on the floor grinning a drooly little grin surrounded by their toys. They aren't always cute and snuggly. They are no longer precious both asleep AND awake. Usually it is only when they are sleeping. However, even then they are sometimes a hot mess.
I also do not believe that anyone looks the way they are presented in their profile picture. Heck, I look damn cute in mine, holding my sweet Monster man up next to me. Let me assure you, I only look like that 2% of the time. and 50% of that 2% is for mere minutes, just long enough to update my profile picture. I've deceived you into thinking that I'm THAT adorable, All The Time. Not true. My favorite outfit consists of some sweatpants, and an over sized t-shirt. I wear that most days. O.K. I wear that EVERY day. I only get dressed if I am going out in public or have friends coming over. And sometimes, I am that mom in Walmart who is wearing yesterdays yoga pants. But you would never know that based off my Facebook page. Because it is all lies!
Ok, not lies. It is all half truths, how about that. Sure you may actually do the things you say you do, but it is not all you do. Because thank God, most people do not update their status every five minutes. Some people do, but hey, that's what the "Unsubscribe" button is for.
And on the note of the "unsubscribe" button. Thank you, lovely Facebook gods who invented that button. Thank You for eliminating the unnecessary drama of deciding a few months later that you don't actually want to be friends with the person whose friend request you accepted. Thank You for understanding that families do not have to be torn apart by the ridiculous notion that they have to be friends with each other.
Anyway, I digress. Basically what I'm saying is, to all of you out there who want the rest of us to believe that you are a perfect individual, perfect mother, perfect friend; I know the truth. Because in the end we all misrepresent ourselves to look like better human beings than we actually are. It is part of the circle of life. Or the circle of judgement, whatever. I know that you aren't perfect. I know that you, just like myself, lose your cool and even, heaven help us, yell at your kids on a occasion. I know that you don't always want to soothe every tear your child cries (or maybe you do, because your child is not yet at the age of misbehaving, or hasn't suffered from some miserable form of colic....props, you got lucky). I know that sometimes you lock yourself in the bathroom because you Just Can't Take It. I know that you don't want anyone to know that you do, because your B.E.C. is a Judgy McJudgster and will let you know that there are alternatives to your parenting techniques.

You are not alone. Deep down we're all Facebook Liars. From now on I am taking a stand. I vow to let you in on the good AND the bad AND the ugly. I refuse to judge your bad day. Your messy house. Your unwashed hair. Your kid's fit. The manic look in eyes. And I refuse to let anyone treat me like they are better than me, because their so called lives are perfect.
So if you are a Facebook liar with half truths, and messy houses or rotten children, you can sit by me. :)

Looking back on today.

This morning my children and I all snuggled up on my bed and took a bunch of pictures together. Every so often I pull out my phone and make sure I've captured a few pictures with them. If they end up on my lap, out comes my phone. if they are laying down together, out comes my phone. Eventually when I am not on such a tight budget, we'll be able to invest in a new point and shoot camera so that I don't have to use my phone, but until then, we are Instagram pro-photographers.
Once upon a time, I was always behind the camera. I rarely was in them, and to be honest I only occasionally cared. I was more than happy to take pictures of Husband with the Monsters, because I always wanted there to pictures of them together. Then I started to think that maybe, just maybe, my kids might want to look back on their childhood photos and see that they actually had two parents, and not just a Daddy. I mean really, they need to have visual aides of the warm fuzzy Mommy Monster, instead of what they actually remember....You know, the timeouts and the "Please-God-I'm-Begging-You,-Go-To-Your-Room-and-Play"s, and frantic, "We've got to get the house cleaned up before Mommy goes insane" moments. Instead I want them to look through the ENDLESS photo albums and remember, "Oh yeah, we used to all pile up on Mommy's bed while daddy was at work, and read and snuggle and take funny face pictures together." I want them to see the pictures of us playing dress up and popstar, posing with their play guitars with all the barrettes and headbands and bows that we own adorning our heads. Because one day they will be grown, and taking pictures with Mommy will not be as much fun as it is Right Now. Making silly faces at the camera will be a game for "babies". And Mommy, God forbid, will no longer be cool to them.
Not to mention, I can't wait for the days when my Monsters look through all these pictures and say "Wow Mommy, look how pretty you were without wrinkles, and grey hair and whoa, was your hair PURPLE in that picture? You were so awesome!"

One day when I am gone, my children will be able to look back on today, a day when all three of them had a picture with their Mommy, one of the two people in this world who would die for them. Who would take a picture sans makeup and actual clothes, just for a memento of our fun. They will see all of our smiles and know that their Mommy loved them to the moon and back.

Money matters.

Once upon a time, a boy and a girl started their life together and never imagined that money would be an issue. They were both working, while expecting their first sweet bundle of joy, and always had money on hand for whatever they needed. Things were great, and they naively thought they could continue with the same spending habits after the girl gave up working to stay at home with the baby. Did they have a savings plan? Heck no, because they were too busy spending to worry about saving. The glory days.

Yeah, those days ended Real Quick.

Now five years later, boy and girl are still kicking it on the one job lifestyle, but with some dramatic difference. Money went from being fun and reckless, to time consuming, attitude adjusting and mood cramping. The differences between luxury from five years ago and now are dramatic; almost, even, traumatic. Why traumatic? Well, when I think of the things we blew money on five years ago to the things we so carefully pinch pennies for now, I am appalled to realize how careless we were. Live and learn though, right?

Tis the season of budgeting in our household. Planning, and strategics (mostly on my part, as I am the one who stresses out more). With tax returns right around the corner, I find myself making lists, over and over and over again, detailing the priorities of this money we will have. Half of our return will pay off small bills/loans. This will immediately save us about $100 a month. I can almost release the breath I've been holding at the thought of this. I can feel myself slowly relaxing into a state of calm, knowing that we will have less cause to fight over where our money goes. I can envision a savings account, money for Christmas next year, budgeting the expense of a second vehicle so that maybe, just maybe, the Monsters and I will have transportation while Husband is working. Dollar by dollar I find myself "pre-spending". In my head I have already purchased bunk beds for the Monster girls, and painted Monster man's room. In my head, I have a laundry storage system in place, and perhaps a pantry or deep freezer. In my head that pantry/deep freezer is already filled to the brim with groceries and staple items, eliminating the constant worry and fear that we might run out of money to buy the things we need. In my head I have stocked up on diapers for Monster man, and saved receipts to exchange sizes if need be. And even with all of that, there will still be money left over.
Which means, in my head I'm envisioning setting aside for date nights with Husband, who I seem to be spending too little one on one time with. The last time we even had dinner alone was while I was pregnant. I am picturing us actually treating ourselves to some pampering, that is seriously long overdue. All I want to do is continue making lists, outlining and planning for everything we need/want/desire. I'm anticipating marking a few things off of our bucket list with the Besties. Most of all, I'm just glad we'll be able to breathe easy again.

How to tell if you have a B.E.C.

Lately the acronym "B.E.C." has been popping up left and right. So I'm here to tell you how to tell if you have one.

1. You walk into a room and immediately notice how annoyed you are that one particular person is there.
2. Anything your B.E.C. says is a)wrong   b)immature or   c)worthy of an eye roll
3. This person will probably not realize that you cringe whenever you see them.
4. How dare they partake in an activity YOU like when clearly they are not as good at it as you are.
5. Even their jokes make you want to punch them in the throat.

Now, I am a firm believer that everyone has that one person. Some people have an interwebz B.E.C. (I don't) and some people have an "in real life" B.E.C. ( I have a couple)

The mature thing to do if you ever find yourself in this situation, is to first make sure they are actually eating crackers. If it is only a mild annoyance that just occurs once or twice, they probably are not a genuine bitch eating crackers. However, if you find yourself literally smacking your head against a wall or a table Every Time they open their mouth (read as: post status/upload picture/call your phone etc...) then they probably are your B.E.C.

Once you have determined they are your B.E.C, you can do one of three things. Remove yourself from any situation involving them (difficult, but not impossible), you can decide to not let them get to you and from then on respond in a jovial manner to all that they do (definitely impossible), or you can halfway remove them. By half way I mean, they don't know you did it, but YOU know you did it, and you can still enjoy the guilty pleasuring of hopping online to their page and pissing yourself off for the fun of it. Friends, option 3 is by far the most intelligent, even if it does make you seem like a psycho every time you click on over to see what they've been up to.

Want to eliminate all your B.E.Cs? Delete Facebook, cause that shit is the devil sometimes.

Don't have a B.E.C? Then that means you are one.

Once Upon a Time, and other family bonding.

Husband and I were bonding tonight. We were watching t.v. together. Now to you this might not sound like bonding, but in my house it is. 

Now it started with dinner and a show, because we have found a show that I enjoy, and so do the girls. Husband pretends he doesn't like it, but he watches anyway. We watch Once Upon A Time each week on Hulu, and I've got to tell you I am pretty stoked at how family friendly it is has been. Unfortunately the more the plot continues, the more adult the themes become, and the less my girls are able to comprehend. Before it was just Snow White and Prince Charming have to get their daughter back. Now it has complex character relationships, and connections that I'm sure they don't understand. Not to mention just last week the show had its first ever cuss word, which, though I sometimes let my mouth get the best of me, was a disappointment. I'm not saying it is nothing my children haven't heard before, but I was actually in love with the concept of a show that reached both the adults and the tiny humans in my household. Here's to hoping that ABC decides to keep it available to the children as well, because there is nothing I love more than a Once Upon a Time marathon with my girls!

After the Monsters are in bed, however, it is a different branch of shows all together. Husband and I have been slowly branching out into different types of shows. Ok, so mostly I have been branching out into shows that grown ups are not afraid to watch. 

I will be the first to admit it. I am a big, fat scaredy-cat. I was not exposed to horror as a child, and to this day I will lie awake in my bed debating on whether or not I can handle closing my eyes.

This is, in fact, what happened to me just last night. After getting about, eh, 2 MINUTES into American Horror Story, I turned it off, because it just was not going to happen. That was a bit much for me to start off with. So instead, I chose Supernatural. Something about watching Jared Padalecki made it less...."real" to me. I have spent so many years watching him play Dean on my all time favorite show, Gilmore Girls, that seeing him on the screen again was easier than starting off with something where those people in fact could actually be real and quite possibly may have really been murdered. I can not even begin to understand my own mentality, but to me it seems rational. 

Or so I thought. Until it was time for Husband and I to go to bed and suddenly every noise was keeping me awake. I laid there until 2 a.m. waiting for myself to become so exhausted that my body and brain couldn't keep sleep at bay any longer. Needless to say, it was not an easy sleep.

So what do we do tonight after the Monsters are in bed? We watch it again. Silly me, thinking I could just trick myself into not being terrified of the dark! The first couple of episodes were not so bad, but slowly but surely I got to the point that I could not watch another episode. I played on my phone to distract myself from absorbing too much of the storyline, and when it became unbearable I told Husband we had to switch to something happy. He was hesitant to agree, but since neither one of us really wanted to walk into the bathroom alone, (Bloody Mary story lines! What gives??) he agreed. We tried to watch 30 Rock, which after only one episode didn't appeal much to him. I may try that one by myself during the day, but instead we turned on WWE. Yes, you read that right. I bond with Husband by watching wrestling. It has been a slow and steady process to make myself appear interested, and then finally ACTUALLY be interested. Everything from the ridiculous story lines ( really, who ARE their writers?) to the even more ridiculous costumes cracks me up. I love watching the Diva matches, and even took a break just now from writing to go watch one, because those chicks, I want to be them just for one day. The acting is shit, but they sure are strong. I know I couldn't lift another female the same size as me above my head...

The best part about watching wrestling with my Husband is that he does not care when I am more interested in the buff half naked guys running around than who actually wins the match. ;) Or that my main goal is to finally see The Rock wrestle. I'm waiting, patiently, because it is bound to happen eventually.

So for now I'm going to be avoiding all windows/mirrors/reflective surfaces, and pulling out my old favorite teddy bear to keep me company in the morning after Husband leaves for work. Because that stuffed bear, you just know it is going to keep me safe...

It really is a monster house today.

Frequently, ok always, I refer to my children as my Monsters. Which they are. Apparently they have decided Monsters are the cool thing to be. Monster L is walking around the house making her voice all raspy as she talks, saying "I a munster, grrrrr" while Monster S is telling me that L is her "Monster pet, and she does what she is told"

Ah my children, gotta love them.

Pinterest FAIL.

Yesterday I decided to try something new. Being a ridiculous coffee addict has created something of a Monster Mommy here in the Monster house. I don't function well without my coffee, and yesterday I used the last drop of coffee creamer that was available in my refrigerator. Now normal people would just use milk and sugar when they run out of creamer. Yeah, I used to do that. But Husband, being the delightful creature of habit that he is, will only use a flavored coffee creamer. This was ok for a long time, because Husband only drank coffee MAYBE once a week. Until his parents bought a Keurig.

Now don't get me wrong, those are some nifty coffee makers. But you stick a man, any man, in front of a gadget and of course he wants to see how it works. So gradually as the appeal of using that sneaky little machine grew, Husband was hooked. We'd be sitting at our own home, where we NEVER had coffee, and suddenly he would look up and say "I want some coffee." Out came the fancy (but normal) coffee pot I bought him last year for Christmas, the last time he went through a coffee drinking phase. 

Long story short, we both became coffee addicts, and of course it was just easier to pour some yummy chocolate flavored creamer in my cup instead of messing with milk and sugar.

Until I was the one who was hooked.

So yesterday, here I was savoring my half full cup of coffee, having used every bit of the Cinnabon creamer that I could shake into the cup, when I remembered a pin I pinned on my Pinterest board (try saying that ten times fast!). DIY Coffee creamer! Of course this would be cheaper than going out and buying $6.50 worth of creamer! Yes, $6.50, because we drink so much coffee that we go through two bottles of creamer in ONE WEEK. It's serious business. Anyhow, I'm reading the pin, and I'm thinking to myself, 

"What this is easy, mix some milk, some sweetened condensed milk...wait, shit I don't have that. Ok, google...How to make your own sweetened condensed milk. Awesome. All you need is some evaporated milk...well shykies, I gave all that to the food pantry at church because I NEVER USE IT!. Curse you evaporated milk. OK, Google. How to make your own sweetened condensed milk WITHOUT evaporated milk. Alright, water. Check. Sugar. Check. Butter. Check. Powdered milk, double check!"

So I set to work, diligently following the instructions. I wish I had pictures, because if you knew how many reviews said they burnt their SCM in the process of cooking it, well let's just say I'd love to be able to show you how I got it right on the first try.

Alright, SCM cooling in the fridge, back to the computer to check out that pin again. From there I had all the ingredients.So I'm checking out with flavors I want to do, and I decide on the strudel flavor. Now, this required cinnamon. Since the Cinnabon flavor is my current favorite creamer, I of course wanted THIS CREAMER. As I'm reading the comments I notice people talking about how they couldn't get the cinnamon to dissolve, and the author suggested heating it. Now, I've been cooking for my family for awhile so I know that it is always easier to get something to dissolve in a hot liquid. So it makes sense to me that I should just put the cinnamon in the sweetened condensed milk before it cools. I'm running like a crazy person, measuring my cinnamon grabbing the SCM and mixing. And mixing. AND MIXING. Because gosh darn it, I want some freaking coffee.
Well apparently, I have never seen cinnamon when it is dissolved. To me it looked pretty dissolved. I thought I was a freaking genius.

This is where things get dicey. See, I probably should have left the SCM in the fridge a little longer so that it would cool COMPLETELY like the directions said. But it was like, decently cool, so of course in my impatient, irrational mind that meant it was ready to use. I grabbed my 2 cups of measured out milk, my tsps of vanilla extract and almond extract, and my super cinnamon-y SCM, and I combined. Then I shook the living hell out of that creamer. I shook and shook and shook that creamer until it was combined to perfection.
Then I did a happy dance at my clever craftiness. I grabbed my pot of coffee (which had been sitting there with one more full happy cup, waiting and taunting me through this proccess) and my favorite coffee mug, and I poured a nice full cup of coffee. Then I added my homemade coffee creamer, and settled down in front of the computer to enjoy it while I perused the message boards.

Then, I took a sip.

Then I took Another Sip.

Then I got up and brushed my teeth and downed some water Just In Case I had the funky tastes in my mouth from sampling during the preparation process.

I took Yet Another Sip.

And my coffee cup sat there for the rest of the night as I sat in denial, telling myself I didn't really want that coffee anyway and THAT was the reason I couldn't finish it.

It couldn't possibly have been because all I could taste was Cinnamon. All I could feel in my mouth was Cinnamon. Lots and Lots of cinnamon.

So I guess, I'm not as genius as I thought, because friends, not following the "heating" instructions for the cinnamon was a big mistake. and I now have a bottle of homemade coffee creamer in my fridge that, while tasting better than milk and sugar, will sit there, probably until the end of time. 

And that concludes the story of my Pinterest Fail.

The Sh*t My Kid Says

Continuing with The Sh*t My Kid Says, here are a few more things that Monster S has baffled me with of late.

About getting her sister in trouble for peeing on the floor:

~~"Mommy, L peed on the floor in our room instead of in the potty! Get her, Get HER! Is she gonna get a spankin' cause I told? Yes, I know how to tell on her now, I Am Awesome!"

On helping with her brother:

~~S-"Um, I don't want to give him his paci."

Husband-"Why not, he's your brother! Can't you help out?"

S- "No, he's YOUR baby."

~~"I am not going to throw away his diaper, because L has to throw away her diapers cause it is HER poop. So YOU throw away brother's diapers until he can throw away his own poop."

On playing with her friends:

~~"I can't wait for my friends to come over and play in my room with me. 'Cept it's my room, so I get to tell them what to do."

~~"I get to be the Mommy, and you are the baby, because I said so." (I can not imagine where she gets this bossiness...)

On her sister:

~~"L is touching my stuff, cause she wants to be just like me, but I don't want her to. I want to be me, and I want her to be her."

On the topic of wrestling with Daddy:

~~"Daddy, it's ok if we wrestle when Mommy isn't looking, cause then she won't know."

~~"I can beat you up Daddy, cause I'm stronger than you"

On the topic of cooking lunch:

~~"Well I watched you that one time so I can cook lunch for all of use. Ok, so what do you want? A slice of turkey? And maybe a piece of bread?"

On the topic of how Mommy looks:

~~Me-"Hey baby, does this shirt make Mommy look fat?"

S-"No Mommy, your belly makes you look fat."

   I asked for it...

Until next time!

Why I cannot keep my house clean.

It's official friends. I have lost all control over my household.

Having three children is overwhelming in a way I did not anticipate. Now this could be because someone around here always needs something. Always. There is always a diaper to be changed, or a pee puddle to clean up, a puzzle piece to be found. My children are equally demanding in very different ways.

Ever since the birth of Monster D, Monster S has decided she is particularly needy for attention. Any attention, she's not picky. So my oldest monster is certainly adjusting her behavior in any way necessary to get said attention. She is jumping off couches, she is climbing up the fridge doors, she is perching atop counters sitting there oh so coyly, waiting for someone to notice that she is doing something she ought not be doing. When she is not misbehaving, she is just plain BEHAVING. She is the most reliable little creature you will ever find. She throws away diapers, she helps with the dishes and cooking dinner, she wants to fold the laundry For You, and heaven help, I sometimes let her. She is sweet and gentle when she is not loud and obnoxious. She Is Exhausting.

My sweet Monster L is the epitome of middle child syndrome. She is sneaky, she is devilish, yet she is quiet and unassuming. You would never guess that the calm and content little girl sitting at the coffee table playing with her ponies is actually Satan reincarnate. She has developed the habits that all sneaky children eventually learn. She is grabby, but only when an adult is not looking. She is aggressive, but only when it is unwarranted. She is the perfect little terror who plays the victim all too well. I know the type, my sister was one of them. The "sweet baby sister" who mimics Every Single Thing big sister does, if only to annoy the bloody piss out of them. It works, trust me. Even at 3, Monster L has decided it is her mission in life to 1) Annoy Monster S. 2) Get her sister in trouble, and lots of it. 3) Single-handedly become the most whiny, crying-est little creature you have ever encountered. When she is not deceiving you by playing quietly by herself disturbing no one that is.

That leaves us with Monster D. A true monster, because he is not to blame for any of his spoiled rotten tendencies. He is in love with his Mama, and has mastered the art of attention hog. While sitting on my lap propped up facing me, this devilish little man Must Have Mommy's Attention, or he is not happy. I could be holding my phone playing a game, or God forbid, checking Facebook, and he will start wailing. Until I set my phone down and talk to him. Then he is smiling and cooing like he was never upset to begin with. Despite his needy tendencies, he is always willing to snuggle with me, and is the only one of my children who will settle down for me and not Husband. While this can be frustrating when all I want is a break at the end of the day, it is a gratifying feeling that Finally, At Long Last, one of my Monsters likes me more. This could be because I am his source of food and he knows it, but I'd like to think that he is just a Mama's boy at heart.

So here I sit, pondering why I can't seem to get the laundry done, and why, despite being picked up yesterday, my floor yet again looks like the toy box took a massive dump right on top of it. Did I mention we are also in the throes of potty training a child (Monster L) who likes to leave surprise puddles? You haven't truly experienced parenthood until you have unknowingly stepped into a puddle of pee while your child sits by laughing as you dance through the air, willing your disgusting foot to be dismembered from your very body. I find myself becoming disillusioned that it can all be done effectively. Who has time for scrubbing the floors, and catching up on laundry, and cleaning the Monsters' rooms? Without unlimited funds, who can make their storage areas look cute and endearing while also remaining efficient? Do housewives everywhere actually find themselves able to take a shower, clean the kitchen AND have dinner on the table in a timely manner? Where can I learn this witchcraft? Do I have to sell my soul to the devil just to get things done?

And why, after all these years has Someone, Somewhere not invented that house from the old 1999 Disney Channel original movie, Smart House?

Wait what, the year is new?

It's a new year, which means it's a time for reflection and resolutions.
Reflecting on the previous year is easy. I did the superwoman bit and gave birth to a tiny human, I didn't end up in an insane asylum (which is an accomplishment with every passing day!) and Husband and I realized that our level of awesome-ness COULD be found elsewhere, and we decided to snatch up the only two other people in the world as cool as us to be our new besties. All in all, it's been a good year. I closed the year out with a sad but for the best decision to get my tubes tied, making Monster 3 our last baby. While I know that I personally do not want more children, the fact that the option is no longer there is kind of weird. But good for our family, as I don't think my iron clad will power can hold out against another child. The Monsters are already giving me a run for my money!
As for resolutions, I'm all about the dolla dolla bills this year. I've mapped and planned every bit of income we could possibly be having this year, planned for a Christmas fund for NEXT year, spent our tax return before we have it, and set a goal for how much I'd like to have saved by 2014. Husband says this is one of my biggest flaws. I do not personally think it is a bad thing, but he seems to think that it's excessive that I have his money spent before he makes it. I mean, really, what else would I do with his money if not spend it for him?
In all seriousness, we are pretty excited about some of the things we have planned for the year. I plan on making a page with a list of the things I want to do, and crossing them off as they get accomplished. (Totally stole this idea from my bestie, although she does 100 things. Ain't nobody got time for that! At least, I don't have time to write them out...) However, one of the big things I am excited about doing this year is getting bunk beds for our girls. Now to some people that's not a major deal, but Monster 1 saw a picture once, and she very much thinks it's a big deal. She keeps asking me when she is going to get the bed with the ladder so she can live on top of her sister. This is not only going to free up a TON of space in their room, but it's also going to be the first time both my girls are in "big girl" beds. Hard to believe we have come so far from their crib and pack-n-play days.
I've also resolved to declutter my house. I mean really, who needs So Much Stuff??? It's ridiculous turning around and knocking things off shelves, only to go crashing into more junk as I bend over to pick up the first disaster. I could attribute this to my backside being twice the size it once was, but I'd rather blame the material items that got in my way. They've got to go! Everything from the Big Bear that Monster 1 is holding onto (thanks to my darling baby sister!) or rather trying to because it's twice the size of her, to the movies collecting dust inside our entertainment center. It's going to be a slow and steady overhaul. By slow I mean, I'm going to watch a lot of episodes of Hoarders to make myself feel better about MY mess, while criticizing THEIR mess, only to frantically attempt to assure myself that I am in no way compulsively holding on to too many coffee mugs or skeins of yarn. I will use all of it eventually, after all...
Until next time, you can find me curled up in the fetal position behind the couch, sorting through buckets of Little People and My Little Ponies. I'm going to need A Lot of Coffee.