Ain't Nobody Got Time For That

It's after midnight. I just ate a Greek yogurt and a cheese stick. Riveting, isn't it? What's most incredible to me, is aside from dinner, this is the first time I have sat today.

Some days, most days really, are like this. Middle of the night baby feedings right off the boob, big kid bad dreams, early risers.  Breakfasts are poured from BPA free containers (also known as the boxes). Husband Dearest is kissed and shooed out of the door with coffee in hand. Our "at home" days twice a week are filled with background noise cartoons, potty breaks, Hot Wheels, pre-school and errands. Go here. Be there. Hurry. Hurry. Hurry! I find that I lose hours each day to baby and kid feedings.  I clean the whole kitchen only for it to be marred by sippy cups strewn about and crackers flying from a highchair.  Evenings are quick dinners, as healthy as I can make five ingredients and 15 minutes. Then it's gymnastics, BMX, and lately even motocross.

The spare moments I think I have are commuting to work, to the grocery store, to the bank, to the grocery store, the BMX track and the grocery store. Did I mention grocery store? All these Es in my house know how to eat.

I work three different part time jobs. Not including my "stay at home mom job." Depending on the day, a big chunk may be devoted to working at the gym or Skype teleconferences. Other days, I burn the midnight oil. Tonight is one of those nights.

I feel like I never have enough time. I know most parents can relate. I've also heard, and said, the adage "You make time for the things that are important." Well yes, that's true too. I know that leaning on the counter watching Facebook videos while the kids eat peaceful lunches is not productive and is time wasting, but sometimes my brain just needs to hibernate for a few minutes.

Although my heart is always full, so are my hands. What I really wish I could make room for is time.

S#*t Happens

Today I took E3's nine month photos. There's nothing spectacular about that statement, except, for the first time in his life I was late taking the pictures. Then he was grumpy and wouldn't cooperate to show off his newest skills. Ya know, like standing or whatever. I snapped a few pics, pulled off the stick-on monthly tie (WHY didn't I think of that!?) and wiggled him into an outfit.

A few hours later at the gym I was desperately needing to go to the bathroom. I was doing the pee-pee dance just like a potty training kid with a Big Gulp.  As I was about to pass E3 off to a friend, I felt the spread of warmth on my arm. He had shat himself. And shat himself in a big way. We follow baby-led weaning. A nine month old that mows through some berries, crackers, and an organic baby smoothie in the morning coupled with some nice long drinks off the boob really knows how to blow it out.

Before I messed my own self I hurriedly ran to the back office to change Sir Squirtsalot. You see that nice white onsie in those pictures? He (thankfully) had that on under his cords and button up as a layer of warmth shit protection. I remembered the Pinterest trick to rolling the once off the body as my friend asked how I would get it off of him. Mid process someone else said I should cut it off. Before he finished talking I was reaching for the shears.

That's right, ya'll. E3 shit himself so bad I had to use the Jaws of Life to free him.  Thankfully, I was able to make it to the bathroom without the same happening to me.

Later this afternoon my dear friend JMoo and her darling Kherbear came to play. I told 'Moo all about how close he was to walking on his own, but he was rather stubborn about it. After they left I realized I had missed my afternoon constitutional.

I have this gorgeous, big master bathroom that I can really enjoy a good poop in. Also, since I poop with an audience on the daily, it's got great space. This time, no exception. E3 came squealing in and ripped open one of the unsecured drawers. He loves to find goodies (pull out all my lady products) and toss them about. Right in the middle of me... well, pooping, I see E3 crawl halfway between the drawer to the toilet room in the master bath suite. He then took a football stance and popped himself up, unassisted. I've seen him do this once before.

Then, as I'm three feet away and ass-glued to the porcelain playground I watch my son take his first step.

Shit really does happen when you're a mom.

Organization Challenge Kitchen Week Wrap-Up

This was my first week with the A Bowl Full of Lemons Organization Challenge and it was quite the introduction.

Do you have any idea how much STUFF you have in your kitchen? Here's how you get a real, hit yourself over the head idea of it: Walk thru your kitchen and open EVERY drawer. EVERY cabinet. ALL of them.  Now imagine taking every last thing out of all of those drawers and cabinets. I'm talking down to AND INCLUDING the shelf lining out. Pretend you put it it all in a pile... THAT'S how much shit you have.

This challenge calls for you to empty all storage spaces and stack everything on the kitchen table and sort. Well, I must have a tiny kitchen table because as I was doing my glassware cabinet I realized that I have a shit ton of glasses, more plastic bar cups than necessary, and a ton of (very necessary) coffee cups. I decided to work in phases going cabinet by cabinet instead of the mass dumping of crap. It was a good idea too.  It took me a few days to complete the kitchen.  I do understand the value of taking everything out at once, but with E2 and E3 around, plus the dogs... uh uh no way.

I really wish I had taken more before pictures. However, I'd probably be too embarrassed to post them so I suppose it doesn't matter anyway.

Without getting too wordy, here is my Week 1: Kitchen

You won't see major differences in my overall look. Thankfully with a lot of help from Husband Dearest, our home is kept tidy.

Kitchen Before:

Kitchen After:

The biggest changes were decluterring on the sink side counter. Here's a couple hot spot places:

Before:

After:

Before:

After:

Before:

After:

Major strides in the actual organizing were behind the cabinet doors. Woof were things a mess. I don't have before pictures for most things, but here's how it looked as I worked along.

Under sink before and after:

I hung the recommended command strips for my scrub brushes, taking them out of the sink. Also, a caddy versus a disorganized bin makes a huge difference. Only the Sassy Spray was left out, as that's not a cleaner. Unless you have the sassy mouth of a four year old. It will clean that right up.

In Progress:

My purging was rather successful. Most of the fridge and over half of my spices were old and yucky. 

Spices and Baking supplies:

Medicine Mess:

The stackable bins and spice rack were found a Wally World. I was able to separate up medicine by preventative, sickys, kids, and prescription which we only have a couple of.

Glassware:

Obviously the most important one. OBVIOUSLY.

FRIDGE!!

The good old fridge needed purging and scrubbing. Also, I did go to the grocery store to restock before my hungry super fast BMX kid got home from Nationals. 

This whole week I spent at least and hour each day, and a few days several hours, working on getting things organized. Starting tomorrow I get to tackle the laundry room. I have a small laundry space that doubles as a garage entrance so it's going to need some work. I also have a ton of sewing to do for an outstanding order for my Etsy shop. Hopefully I can have that wrapped up and out Tuesday.

I also revamped some kitchen decorating. My favorite items are the three (was four- one broke. Boo!) recipes of my late Grandma's that I have displayed.

Tell me, did you do anything to organize your home this week?

I Never Wanted to Be a Mom

I never wanted to be a mom. At least, not in the typical sense. My husband and I began dating when I was only 15.  We joked often that we didn't want kids. Only, I wasn't joking.  We actually recently stumbled upon a video of me saying how much I disliked kids. I think the word was HATE kids.  Oh sure, there were times when we said we would have one and my darling of a husband, E1, would stay at home. You know, daddy day care while mommy was out with some killer corporate gig.

I didn't plan on things happening like they did, that's for sure.  Around six months after E1 and I said our "I-do's" I started getting that itch. At first it was an annoyance, like dry knuckles in late January. Eventually, the itch was flaming on-the-bottom-of-your-foot-but-you're-wearing-boots kind of itch. Luckily, E1 and I soon realized we were on the same trajectory. Just after our first wedding anniversary we went to an early breakfast. He asked the question I had said no to a dozen times over: Do you want to have kids?

Yes.

Wow.  Me too. When?

Now. 

I wanted a kid NOW. We settled on trying to start a family with the upcoming new year.  Except, about six weeks later, we learned I was already pregnant with our first son, E2. Talk about a Divine Plan. 

E2 proved to be a handful and a heartful at the same time. Before his second birthday we were already trying for number dos. I had decided with an even stronger conviction that I was ready for a sibling for our wild man.

*

Infertility is a bitch. It's so fucking frustrating to be able to get pregnant so easily the first time, and then have such a struggle to get knocked up a second time. The ass kicker was, twice I got pregnant. But I couldn't STAY pregnant outside of late first trimester. I'm not retelling the story now as I do frequently, but you can read about my last miscarriage experience here. I can honestly say, I went into a deep depression more than even I realized. I was a hollowed shell of a wife, mother and friend. I wasn't remotely myself.

Eventually things turned around. We got to start trying again. Each month more rode on the line, but each month had hope. Hope, really, was all we had. We had decided we would try three cycles with the help of hormone fertility aids before moving into the more invasive IUI and IVF treatments. Quickly we found ourselves on our third and final round of "natural" cycles. E2 was now three years old and begging for a Baby Brudder.  Each time he said it, my heart cracked a little more.

Then, the day after my 10 year high school reunion (which I drank way too much at), and my birthday I took a test, again. The third one that week. It was surprisingly double stripped. I was pregnant again! I already had my appointment scheduled with my OBGYN for the next day. It was to be the day I was introduced to my fertility specialist. There was no need!

I had a miserable bitch of a pregnancy with E3. I didn't care. I was induced at 41 weeks and wouldn't wish being induced on anyone. It was awful.

E3's heartbeat was all over the place during induction, wouldn't stay on the monitor and Husband Dearest was a jittery mess. After 16 hours of transitional labor I finally dilated from a three to a ten in less than two minutes. The doctor had to run across the hospital parking lot to make the delivery. I pushed once.

E3 was not born breathing and was slightly blue. I remember like in a dream Dr. H saying "don't hold your breath on me" and the look on Husband Dearest's face. Then he cried. A screech and a cry. A quick wipe off, a snip of the cord and immediately at my breast to nurse.  Just shy of 10lbs and not as long a big brother, our little Pinecone (E2's nickname for E3) was here.

*

I never wanted to be a mom. As I sit on the couch not quite 9 months since that day with a big kid resting on my shoulder and a little one dreaming in his crib I can clearly say that I was put on this earth with a purpose from God. The purpose was to be a mom to my sweet boys.

14 Week Organizing Challenge: A Bowl Full of Lemons

Disarray. Disorder. Disorganized. I can definitely Dis on my neat and tidy skills. You see, I live with an OCD husband. No, not like "Oh my gawd, I need my beauty magazines stacked together and my MAC lipsticks lined up. Oh, I'm SO OCD," you might hear from a sorority girl, but a true, OCDer. As in, has his clothing laundered and pressed then hangs t-shirts exactly the same way by type and color.  Thankfully my Husband Dearest is mostly in control and does a good job keeping a lid on what I refer to as, "the cray cray." Side note, calling it "the cray cray" also makes him cray cray. I just like to push that big red button.

As you can expect, a house with three dogs, two small humans, a hot mess and a mostly put together husband can be a bit of a cluster when it comes to keeping things organized. Our house is always CLEAN. Floors swept, dusted, pledged (unless it's after meal time, shit gets strewn everywhere when E3 is eating). But, if you look closely, you'll notice that what you see isn't what you get. That's why when a house guest asks what cabinet they can find something in I usually stop them from searching.

I have clothes piled on my shelves, I have stacks of receipts for my Etsy shop that need filed, mountains of fabric in big containers, the boys have overflowing closets of toys, and my pantry is a damn disaster.

Thus, in an effort to make my life easier in the long run and save some of Husband Dearest's sanity, I have decided to take on the A Bowl Full of Lemon's 14 Week Organizing Challenge.  The blogger outlines step by step instructions for each week. Week 1 is the kitchen, excluding the pantry.  I'm told I have to show before pictures. As this is the night before I officially begin the purge, here's what my kitchen typically looks like at the start of the week:

As I mentioned; clean, but cluttered. My under the sink area and tupperware cabinets are the worst. Throughout the week I'll be working on this scramble-bamble and will hopefully have something darling to post next Sunday.

I Took a Break

To say I took a break from blogging is a bit of a modest statement. In fact, I pretty much forgot about it. In 2010 I had my first baby. I blogged here for three years (under The Triathlete Bride moniker) all about triathlons, marathons, our wedding and eventually even pregnancy. I had my hands full with ornery E2 and was also keeping a fitness only blog over at www.fitmommylife.com. By the time my first figure competition was over, I was also over blogging. I tried a few times but failed at making a blog comeback.

I've decided I missed my blogging outlet. I don't have anything exciting to talk about. There's no exotic Ironman triathlon in my future. No marathon PR at stake. So I'm going to talk about what I know. That's being an exhausted, three-part time job mom of an infant and a preschooler and wife to a super dedicated business man and daddy.  I work at the gym a couple days a week, behind the keyboard several hours a week, and behind a sewing machine most nights. I get to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner with my kids every single day. I dabble with exercise in various forms. I laugh often, usually over bedtime stories and fart noises. I try not to yell when I scold E2 or the dogs. I have really long hair and I really do care. I change diapers ten times a day and only get poop on myself once or twice. I get to give love and feel love deep in my heart all, day each day.

So that's what I'm going to blog about.

If you're really interested in who the hell I think I am, click on the "introduction" tab up top. Or if you're too lazy to move your cursor, this whole sentence is a link.