Modest is Hottest....right?

I should be cleaning since this weekend I basically got nothing done, but I know Curtis will be working a full day, so I have time to get it all done by the end of the day. And, Gage is SLEEPING, so I am taking a break for a minute.

I spent a good portion of Saturday at a MOPS planning meeting - which is basically the beginning of the best thing that I've been a part of as a mom. I went to a few MOPS meetings at the end of the school year last year, because my sweet friend, Raquel, invited me to the group when I was taking Gage to MDO at FBC Plano. It basically saved my life. MOPS is "Mothers of Pre Schoolers". It's a Christ-based international organization that has probably done the most good for mothers around the world. We meet twice a month during the school year and have potluck brunch, a speaker or some sort of creative activity (which is the committee I am on this year...crafts!!) group time, prayer requests, and generally support each other through this thing called motherhood.

I can't say how much this particular thing means to me. If I hadn't found MOPS (or rather if Raquel hadn't found me and told me about MOPS) I think I might have had an even harder time getting through my dark days.

One thing I noticed on Saturday was all the "Mormon shorts" as Curtis calls them. They're shorts that are closer to the knee than the crotch. Now, please don't be offended, or think I am being rude. It's really a compliment to Mormons that Curtis associates them with modesty. I think that's their goal anyway. And, really, it's just the same as Baptist shorts, because that's how I was raised. "Modest is Hottest" and "Above reproach; below the knee". I can go on forever with those.

I bought some shorts in the spring from Old Navy, and they're all within 2 inches of my knees. Curtis likes them when I'm in public alone, but he thinks they're a little silly in general. I remind him that one of the reasons he married me is BECAUSE I'm not a floozy. And, it's not just because I'm a mom. It's because I'm a woman who guards the things that are meant for my husbands eyes only. I'm not trying to be "holier than thou" here. My parents raised me VERY conservatively. No sex, no alcohol, no cigarettes, and no short shorts! I wasn't allowed a 2 piece swimsuit until I was 15 and that's only because Tankini's made their debut. And, I am certainly glad for the way they raised the standards of what they expected, versus what the world says is attractive. And, these moms I hang out with, they obviously feel the same way about modesty. I love that I can be around a group of women and not feel intimidated because their sexy cleavage is visible.

It's something that's been a growing frustration for me as the weather gets warm. A woman walked into a restaurant where we were eating the other day, and Curtis and I both looked right at each other with a look of shock, and I jokingly covered Gage's eyes because she looked like she had on one of those Denim Diapers that I've seen commericals for. Her shorts barely covered her cheeks.

And, I'm glad you're proud of your breast augmentation, and I'm glad you had the chance to do that for yourself and your husband (though, of course, not all women who have faux tops are married and only showing them at home), but please don't show them to me and my family.

Wear what you want at home. I believe some women forget to be sexy at home for their husbands...and sometimes when your kids are older, that's an awkward challenge. Don't forget your husband loves you and wants you. But, please, refrain from making me see what the good Lord gave you, or what you paid for.

What an insane 2 weeks!

Hmm...I think I have to start with Gage crawling. He started scooting around on June 16th, and he's only made huge leaps and bounds of progress since. I've frantically had to baby proof the house. Meaning I have:
-Vacuumed and mopped practically every other day.
-Picked up all cords (like the cable cord) and hung them on something to get them at least a foot off the ground.
-We've starting putting our shoes in chairs, or on the mantle. Which leads me to...
-I pushed the couch against our fireplace mantle. We have a pretty substantial brick mantle in our living room, and we don't use the fireplace in the summer, if you can believe that!
-Pulled a receipt, and a Reese's foil wrapper from his mouth.
-Brought the Pack 'n' Play into the office to contain him when I need 5 minutes on the computer without wondering what he's got in his mouth.

It's been pretty crazy to adjust to his mobility. He loves it. He can get after the dogs, follow me into the kitchen, crawl under his exersaucer, and generally get into everything possible!
He's gotten interested in sitting in his high chair to hang out while I wash dishes (because something has gone terribly wrong with our dishwasher the past couple of days) or cook. He's so big, playing by himself. He's gotten s few bumps here and there with the crawling. A scrape on the knee, and a bruise on his big head from the coffee table. But, he's a tough kid! At his 6 month check up, everything was great with him. He weighed 19 lbs 8 oz, and is 27 inches tall! The round of shots he got seemed to affect him more this time, making him tired and cranky and whiney for two full days. YUCK!

He does not want to be held as much, now that he can get around on his own. That makes me sad. He's gotten a little belligerent with his new found freedom. He's arching his back to be put down, he doesn't want to be rocked. He's also been waking up a little more at night, which I feel is a direct test of my tough love abilities. He knows how to put himself to sleep at night, (because we taught him that at a very young age) and he knows how to put himself BACK to sleep if he wakes up. So, I may check on him but I won't pick him up. Of course, I am battling the pee pee leaking diapers, but I am trying out the Huggies Overnights tonight. Cross your fingers for me!

yo gabba gabba - gage's mistress

Gage and I were playing in the breakfast nook/office together yesterday. He was crawling on me and giving me slobber kisses, when all of a sudden, the music changed on TV and he stopped and leaned toward the sound. Our TV isn't visible from the computer, but you can obviously hear what's on. And, what does he do...he starts trying to turn around in my lap.

It took about 8 more seconds of music before I hear "Yo gabba gaaaabbaaaaaaaaa!" and I figure out what's on TV. So, I take Gage into the living room (he hasn't watched the show in quite a while because I got tired of it, and he's usually napping when it comes on at noon) and I put him on his bottom to sit up like a big boy, and he immediately looks at the TV and starts smiling. And, I am SO offended. He picked THAT show over kissing and cuddling with mommy. But, here he is, so cute and big boy-like with his blonde head, I couldn't say no.

Conversations

Yesterday Curtis and I were giving each other a hard time about our respective jobs and responsibilities. I had left my coffee cup on the computer desk, and he was at the computer and said
"Gee, I wish I had time to sit at the computer and drink a cup of coffee. And, look, you only drank half."
My response, "Yeah, I only had time to drink HALF A CUP OF COFFEE while I was doing marketing for (y)our business yesterday morning."

Via text message in the late morning.
Me: "Your son is VERY talkative today"

Several hours later we're trying to watch a Netflix movie and Gage is squealing and squawking, Curtis looks at me exasperated and all I ask is "Didn't you get my text message?"

And, this morning, I woke up around 2:30 to discover the baby monitor was turned off, and I went to check on Gage, and I felt pretty bad about it, even though he sleeps until 4:30 or so. WHen Curtis got out of the shower, I asked him if he had turned off the baby monitor and his reply "NO. I would never ever do that!".
So, apparently I am the bad parent, and I turned it off in my sleep. Subconcious action? :)

I Can't Complain??

It has occurred to me that some people might feel like I have no right to complain about poop or sleepless-ness since I have the blessing of staying home with my son. My question: Do YOU love every single minute of YOUR job? Because that's what this is. My job. The one I don't get paid for.

I love the hell out of my life. It's crazy, it's awesome, it's stressful, it's full of shit sometimes. I get to stay home ALL DAY with my son. I don't even have to put on pants if I don't need to go anywhere!!!!! And, I haven't mentioned this to anyone yet, but we MIGHT MIGHT MIGHT be renting a little house instead of moving to another apartment. It's all in God's hands right now, but it would be an opportunity to help support some missionaries to China by renting their home while they're gone for 2 years. This is me being excited about having a back yard for the puppies and Gage. That's probably the #1 thing I am most excited about.

So, I am going to be honest. I do NOT love every minute of my job. It's not always a blast to clean poop off baby feet at 4am, or scrub a belly full of baby food throw up off a wooden high chair. You can pretend like you love your job all the time. Or you can get real and join the rest of us on EARTH.

But, dang it, this is the best thing I've ever gotten to do. So, be jealous. :)

Gage: Six Months Old

Dear Big Boy,
You are no longer always a baby. Some days you're a little boy now. You've gotten big, and I think this past month you've shown the greatest amount of progress between "birthdays".

You've had a lot more "firsts" in the past month. You've eaten a lot of new foods. You went swimming in the pool. You're laughing even harder. You've started throwing fits. You spit. You can drink from a sippy cup. You're sleeping pretty well. I DO think we're about to hit the hardcore teething days really soon. I also would like you to know that I still have another 7 lbs to lose, and your nap schedule has made it hard to get to the gym lately.

You're reaching for everything. Cups, toys, the dogs, dirty diapers I just took off of you, my slice of pizza. You just figured out you can stretch and reach the floor with one foot in your walker and push yourself backwards. Your dad saw you take one crawl and face plant yesterday. So, I know crawling is just around the corner. Scooter will LOVE when you're mobile. Then he will have to hide from you on our bed or somwhere equally unreachable by you. I'm pretty sure HE is the reason you will pop up and start crawling any day now. You want to get your hands on him so badly.
You respond to me saying "bounce" when you're in your exersaucer. You think it's funny when I made an idiot of myself dancing, singing, crawling (to set the example, of course!) and jumping around. You somehow manage to get stuck under the coffee table on a regular basis.

You are VERY interested in everything. We love to watch you in "discovery mode". You're everywhere, and we can't look away for a second. You've learned how to flip onto your tummy in the bath tub. You've started spitting. You're six months old!!!

I just can't believe we have a son, and he's already six months old. If you want to speed up time, have a kid. Then every day of memories is new and goes by way too quickly.

Gage, you've turned my whole world into something new. I see things from your perspective. And, it's taught me what's important. Like squirrels and bananas. And rolling across the living room. And splashing water out of the tub. And not wearing any clothes. (ok, you play naked, mommy doesn't)

I took you to the pet store yesterday, and your eyes popped out of your head to see all the puppies and bunnies and fish. I can barely keep you fed these days. You're eating constantly it seems. But, you go for several hours at night without eating, so it makes sense. You are concerned with what we are eating, and I think you're figuring out that you're getting screwed when it comes to the cereal and jars of baby food.

I am just overwhelmed with all the things that have happened this month. You're getting sooo big, and I can't wrap my mind around it. You get angry when I force you to hold still when I change your diaper. And the spitting...usually when you're angry. You get crazy in the saucer when you're hungry. Speaking of eating: you sit in your high chair like a big boy and open your mouth like a bird when i get te bowl and spoon out with your cereal in it. And, you smacked the bowl out of my hand the other day and splattered cereal across the floor. Scooter likes you a little more because of that.

You scream for fun. You try to sit up when you're laying down or in your car seat. You reach your arms up to get picked up by us when we come to get you. You're constantly happy. You love people. You love yourself. I think we're the luckiest parents to have a kid like you. We couldn't ask for a more special, wonderful son.

Thank you for all you've taught me. For all your kisses. For cuddling with me at bedtime and patting my face to wake me up after our early morning nap together. Thank you for being such a good baby in public. You've always got a smile for strangers. Thank you for making us parents. And thanks for not firing me for sucking at this job.

Love, Mommy

My Daily Goals

It might seem silly, but I have made a list of things I want to accomplish each day. It's sort of a "to-do" list for all aspects of life. Simple things that don't always get done in a normal day, but should, if I manage my time better.

In somewhat chronological order:
Make Coffee
Read Bible
Post/Maintain Marketing Ads
Workout
Shower
Do dinner dishes and wipe down kitchen counters
Clean off coffee table (it collects stuff over the day)
Plan for dinner by thawing appropriate meat
Wash, dry, fold and put away a load of laundry

Other things:
Play with Gage (don't worry, this is what I spend a lot of time doing)
Read Bible story to Gage before bedtime
Blog
Get out of the house before 4pm to run errands - this is a challenge because, as I mentioned, I revolve my time around Gage's naps, and I won't leave the house if he's suppose to be napping. It makes life easier if he's well rested.

If you think this sounds ridiculous, you probably don't have kids.

Poop Patrol (and my iron stomach)

**FAIR WARNING, CONTAINS POOP COMMENTARY AND ANECDOTES**

Soooo, the other day Curtis asked me if I had written any blogs lately. It warmed the cockles of my heart. I think. Because I'm not sure where that saying came from, or where my cockles are exactly. That should be a blog in itself...where do these random sayings come from?

Here I am. I think two weeks ago, I started going back to the gym. Meaning, I made it two days last week, and zero days this week. Gage has been sleeping more. And, I may be a terrible parent what with all the tequila Gage drinks these days, but I firmly believe in the importance of sleep. So, I will plan my life/day around the sleep habits of the mini monster that lives with us. So, I never wake him up. Ever. Except for this morning. More to come on that.

I explained to Curtis that I have always had the tendency to write when I am feeling something negative. It's my creative outlet for my disappointments and frustrations. And, I think the natural high of FINALLY working out (even if only a couple days at a time) was such a fix for me, that I've been riding that high for two weeks. Also, I went to see SATC 2 with a girlfriend last weekend, and we had a cookout with those same friends for Memorial Day weekend. So, I've been socialized, exercised, and something else-ized enough that I've not felt a NEED to write to feel better.

But, I have things to share. Like why I woke Gage up today. He's been sleeping great lately. Lots of naps and sleeping through the night on occasion. Last night, he woke up around 3:15, had a bottle and slept until I had to wake him up because he was sleeping in his own poo. Yes, I said that. He had pooped his diaper, it exploded out the top, and he was happily sleeping on his tummy with crap on his back. After a few minutes of debate (i am VERY dedicated to letting him sleep) and texting my mom what she thought...I woke his poopy butt up. And, thank the Lord I did. It was worse than I thought.

He had poop dried to his back and side. His shirt was ruined, and his sheets were spotless. Guess he hadn't rolled over from his tummy since he pooped, so it was all "contained" to his backside. I took him straight to the tub of soapy bath water I ran before I got him, and I had to scrub the poop off. Yep. And, now my iron stomach that has always been able to handle anything nauseating has truly earned an award.

On the flipside, my mom use to listen from downstairs while I threw up in the bathroom and yell "are you ok?" between barfs. To her credit, this was only after the age of 12. Curtis has thrown up on the toilet lid, on my kitchen counter, on the side of my car. And, guess who cleans it up? Not Curtis. Guess who comes to take care of me when I throw up...not Curtis. Any time I throw up, I am on my own.

So last night when Gage unexpectedly poops all over himself BEFORE bed, and I run him to the bathroom to strip and bathe him, Curtis ran the opposite direction. He DID say "tell me what to do" and then got a towel for me to lay Gage on to strip him on the bathroom floor. And, as I asked Curtis to run the bath water, I lost him. He looked at Gage, looked at me, and went to the living room saying "this bathroom's not big enough for all this". Meanwhile, I am wrestling Gage who doesn't know (or doesn't care) that he's rolling in poop and it's in his hair because he bucked when I tried to pull the onsie over his head. I ran after Curtis and asked a poignant question "Why the hell did you have kids? THEY POOP!"

I washed Gage, put his diaper on, and made Curtis hold him til bedtime. Curtis didn't trust Gage. I guess it's true: Never trust a fart.