Remember when...

Oh hey there. Have you been terribly bored with me lately? Me too. I truly believe my brain is squashed between the piles of laundry to be folded. I wish you could listen to my brain rattle off words and sentences all morning long; I have my best blog thoughts in the morning. It's just too bad for my blog (but obviously great for my kids) that my mornings are booked with hours of pretend playing and craft making. I'd probably post more if I wasn't forced to write at night. Too bad for me--too bad for you. ;)

Just a few things to catch you up on the status of whatever is left of my brain, which I dare say is not very much because those piles of laundry I already referred to are getting really big. I didn't fold for one week, and I already feel dead in the water for this week. When I put off doing laundry, even if it's just for a day or two, it causes a terrible ripple effect. The girls can't find their beloved dresses or holy pants, and tantrums before school ensue, leaving me baffled as to what life is going to be like when the girls are teenagers. Heaven help me!

I know, I know, enough with the laundry. Enough! Alright then. Since that apparently was the first thought on my mind tonight, I will continue with the second. This morning I looked in the mirror and almost didn't recognize the girl staring back at me. I laughed inside as I thought of what Tim must think when he sees me daily. He swears he never thinks any of the following things, but I did catch him gasping when he went to fondle me today and found I was wearing a bra. Sorry bun...I had to wear one, a stranger was coming over, and I didn't want to seem overly inappropriate. Anyway, if I had to give the following list a title, it would be "Remember when..." Remember when I used to wear the hundreds of dollars worth of makeup in the drawer? Remember when I used to brush my hair each morning? Remember when I wore something other than sweatpants? Remember when I used to smell of more than just sour milk? Remember when I used to wear a bra daily? Remember when my eyes sparkled instead of sagged? 

I'm a hot mess over here. It's hard to justify getting dressed daily when I know I'll be covered in spit up within minutes after each feeding with Felicity. She really likes for me to see what she eats so she graciously showers me with copious amounts of milk daily. I'm at a point where I'll pick up a shirt/sweatshirt and see a few spit-up spots and really rationalize a reason for not wearing said shirt as I scratch off the old milk. When did I become that mom? Honestly, two kids ago, but who's counting? I'm also in an awkward phase with my hair. I have an incredibly dry scalp during nursing so I try to leave my hair unwashed as long as possible, but I keep asking myself, "Is it better to look greasy and unkempt or dry, frizzy and crazy? Please chime in with your thoughts, though if I'm going to be honest with you, I'll probably continue with my current routine, which is washing every third or fourth day. And should we even attempt a conversation about makeup? Probably not. At the moment, I'm barely treading water with the four girls, and I just can't justify putting makeup on if I'm not planning on leaving the house all day. Why waste the hundreds of dollars of makeup on pale, grayish-blue walls?

Enough with my sob story. Life is rolling right along over here in dreary Texas. No one ever told me Texas would be so cold and gray, but that's all it's been for weeks. The blue days are few and far between, and I'm getting a little anxious in all this sad weather. It makes me want to eat chocolate, except I can't eat chocolate because I'm participating in a health challenge for two months. You know the challenge--it's the eat 3 servings of vegetables and 2 servings of fruit, drink 64 oz. water, avoid sugar/chocolate like it's the plague, exercise 5 days a week, and keep a food journal kind of diet. I am trying not to see it as a diet but as a way of life, but why, oh why, can't chocolate be a part of that way of life? ;) Every afternoon I find myself pacing the kitchen floor in an attempt to eat something that feels sweet but isn't. I'm not sure it's working.

At the moment, Tim is resting leisurely with his eyes closed, and I'm sitting here next to him wishing we could go to bed at 8pm every night, but so far Felicity isn't ready to go to bed early. She has slept through the night twice, and I think she'd do it regularly if her body functioned properly. It doesn't, so we find ourselves up late trying to help her body relax and feel comfortable enough to sleep. Luckily, she is a sweet little thing because otherwise life would feel really depressing right now.

On a very different note, I'm having minor surgery on Friday because I am the 1 in 1000 women that has the IUD perforate their uterus. I know for a fact that the nurse practitioner had everything to do with this and my uterus was the poor victim, but playing the "He said/She said" game only got me so far. Texans do not appreciate my sass. But I feel justified in my sass right now because who really wants to have an unexpected surgery when they have four small kids at home? Blah, blah, blah. I've run out of steam in the complaining department. I've decided to accept it for what it is and am anxiously awaiting surgery because it is very weird to feel a foreign object floating around in my body. Yes, I can feel it, and it isn't comfortable.

So p.s. if I get pregnant in a month or two, please don't judge. I really did try to get birth control. The IUD has been the only effective birth control for us up to this point so I am actually very scared for my near future. If you're wondering, and let's face it, I know you are, all other birth controls cause me to have lots of terrible side effects--all except for condoms, and well, that's all I am going to say on the subject because c'mon, my grandparents read this blog. :)

And I think the last thing on my mind at the moment is how grateful I am for the people in my life. I have some incredible family and friends. I always think of my friends more like family because I love them so deeply that they become family. So thank you for always thinking of me and being so kind. I am the recipient of so much goodness.

And now I'm off to put Mya and V to bed, and hopefully we'll get to exercise right after because I already feel like I'm about to pass out. The end.


  1. I'm with you. I have worn a grease bun for a few months now. Poor Steve. What he must think of me and the forest growing on my legs (and let's be real...armpits too). I loved this post. Your sass is what I love most.

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"Be kind and considerate with your criticism... It's just as hard to write a bad book as it is to write a good book." Malcolm Cowley