Girl Dad

My three-days-late-pseudo Father's Day post.  Both of our children are girls and for some reason I'm pretty damn sure if we decide to pull the trigger on a third, it will be a girl too.  Before my oldest was born, I had a dream that all of our children would be the same gender.  The first one came out girl-flavored so Team Pink it is!  Although my husband deals with a lot of comments from people assuming he wants some boys, he is just about the best "girl" dad out there. 

He knows how to take care of the girls' hair and can make a pretty respectable range of hairstyles.  Better yet, he lets the girls take a comb, brush and spray bottle and "do" his hair during those harrowing last ten minutes before dinner is ready and everyone is starving.  (It does not matter what time dinner will be ready, everyone is gnaw-an-arm-off-hungry ten minutes before I finish.)  Speaking of hair, he willingly rotor-rooters all of the girl hair out of our shower drains.  Of course "willingly" doesn't mean he doesn't make comments or take pictures and send them to me, but he does it.  He wears hats to their tea parties.  He loves princesses and pirates, gardeners and glitterers.  He tells them they are beautiful and that they are smart.  He bakes with them and cleans with them.  He keeps little girl hair bands on his keyring for hair emergencies.  Apparently being a great girl dad revolves around hair.  He handles bath-time, complete with Carmen Miranda style towel turbans at the end.  He picks out great outfits that defy the boundaries of color and pattern mixing.  I'm pretty sure the best decision I ever made in my life was choosing this man to father my children.  Happy Father's wednesDay!

And then one day at the library my pants fell off

While we are talking numbers (see Six Seconds post) (Obvs I don't know how to make linky-s yet) I will share something personal that I probably won't talk about again.  I am absurdly proud of the fact that since I had Squish last year, I have lost 43 pounds.  Somewhere between 15 - 20 of that was my pregnancy weight.  Unfortunately another 20 of that was Bug's pregnancy weight.  So I'm down three pounds below my pre-any-pregnancy weight.  Hurrah!  Wait, that doesn't sound so exciting.  And that is, unfortunately, still 20 pounds over my wedding weight. But we are getting there.

Seriously though, it feels really amazing to weigh 40 pounds less.  I started working out in October and even though my docs tell me that weight loss is 90% food intake and 10% exercising, I know that my weight loss has been greatly affected by my working out.  I am uber-appreciative of the BHitW for helping me make it a priority to get to the gym.  As for food choices, I have been making small changes every few weeks.  I cut out soda (again) (except when I am eating Mexican and there is real Coke with real sugar - then its a small treat) around the first of the year and I really started dropping a few pounds.  Then I kicked my chocolate-covered raisin habit and my peanut butter filled pretzel habit.  Next up - my "sauce" habit.  I am a sauce-er - honey mustard, BBQ, ketchup.  I know this is just gratuitous calories, so I'm trying to cut back.  My husband does not sauce or dressing anything.  I am jealous of his restraint. 

Farther down on the list is my coffee creamer habit.  I know its bad.  I don't know what all chemicals are in there that make my coffee taste that sweet Italian cream deliciousness, but its going to be really hard to quit.  Plus, a cup of coffee in the morning and an iced coffee in the afternoon are my coping-with-crazy-kids mechanism.  So we shall see.  Anyway, my doc has told me that Weight Watchers is the only way that she knows of, short of surgery, for large amount, long-term, sustainable weight loss.  I am not anti-WW, but the idea of counting and keeping track of things gives me hives.  But if I stall out, which I am sort of at that point, then I will reevaluate.

So, to the juicy part.  None of my yoga pants are really staying up anymore.  Which, as a result of weight loss is ok, but really I don't have the funds to go out and replenish my yoga pants stash.  So Bug and I were at the library a few weekends ago when it started storming.  We park at the gym, go work out, and then walk over to the library and then back to our car.  I stuffed as many of the books as I could under my shirt, grabbed Bug's hand and started running for the five minute jaunt back to our car.  The weight of my water-logged yoga pants was too much for my shrinking waist and floop! my pants were on the ground.  Underpants in full visibility.  Right in front of a library window, where everyone was gathered to watch the storm.  Sigh.  No, I did not wake up from a dream at this point (this isn't the last episode of Roseanne!).  Yes, it is possible to be mortally embarrassed over the of thirty.

Anyone else accomplishing some goals lately?  Anyone have some reliable links re: the horrible-ness of coffee creamers?  Anyone else show a bunch of strangers their underpants?  Anyone ready to spill their most embarrassing moment?

Six seconds

We live in an area where commutes are the norm.  The BHitW does his part by commuting usually over an hour each way to his job.  In a different state.  I, like any dutiful spouse, am always worried about him when he is away from the house.  For some reason, I get particularly upset at the idea that he might have an accident in the morning and I wouldn't know until he just didn't show up that night (what, I never claimed I was a rational thinker).  So now he texts me when he gets to work in the morning to put my mind at ease (of course those mornings he forgets are a little stressful).  And he calls when he is leaving work to let me know he is on his way (these are the craziest hours of my day, the kids seem to know there is a count-down to how long they can act like feral monkeys) (wait, are all monkeys feral?).  Anyway, most days, by the time he calls in the afternoons, my phone battery has died and the phone is either in a different room charging or I couldn't hear it ringing over the monkey noises.  So then, logically, he leaves me voicemail.  I noticed one day that every I'm-on-my-way-home voicemail from him lasts exactly six seconds.  I could see three months of coming home calls and every single one was six seconds long.  This is how long it takes him to say, "Hi, its whatevertime, I'm on my way home, love you."  I find this hysterical.  He is nothing if not consistent.  Last week, I looked at my phone and noticed a missed call and a voicemail from him.  That was eight seconds long. My heart skipped a beat.  Was there some sort of nuclear disaster in the city?  Was he in an accident?  Was he being hijacked?  Have secret codes to tell me?  Nope, just a little extra love that day.  Shew.

Share a horrible commuting story? How about one about feral monkeys? Love messages from your spouse?

Follow-ups

We made less than $100, but more than $75 at the yard sale.  I'll take it.  I learned a lot about pricing and had a great time hanging with the fam and some friends in the front yard.  We kept the jewelry that didn't sell, one toy that I wasn't sure about anyway and the books and DVDs because the library will take those.  The rest went to the Salvation Army.  It is out of the house and although we still have too much stuff, it does feel better in here.  Chalk it up as success!

I worked out and fed people and had about two hours to myself on Mother's Day.  I don't know if I'll get another time to myself, but it was a good day and I enjoyed it, so I'll take that too :)  The BHitW helped the kids make me a picture frame and a mommy's treasure box that were awesome.  We were going to grill out for dinner, but then it rained, so order out it was!

Birthday party is this coming weekend so we are mad crafting this week.  I'll try to post things as they get made, but the memory card on my camera is full so the likelihood of that is slim.  I'll check in anyway.

Want to Bring All the Boys to the Yard. Have No Milkshake.

We are yard sale-ing this weekend.  Our community does a yard sale every spring and we have always missed it, but this year we are in town, so sale-ing it is.  My neighbors looked at me like I was crazy and says no one comes.  Ahh, that would have been nice to know before I started cleaning everything out.  Actually, no.  I have used this yard sale as an excuse to go through every drawer, closet, toy bin, storage box and cabinet in our house.  I hate doing things like that, but I did it.  I am not a cleaner and I'm not the greatest organizer.  I do usually try to keep our main spaces and clothes relatively cleared out (I almost miss moving on a yearly basis in college for this purpose), but as for the other stuff, that is what the backs of closets and cupboards are for. And there is space!  Wonderous, uncluttered space!  Surrounded by piles of crap to clean and price.  I promised my husband that anything that doesn't sell is going straight to the back of his truck and off to the Salvation Army.  So either way, decluttering has been done.  Oh cleaning?  That is a whole a different story!

Have you had a successful yard sale?  What are the tricks?

P.S. - My husband thinks all of the clutter and extra stuff in our house in mine.  So even though he is the BHitW and he doesn't deserve it, I literally crowed a few times when I opened a tub and found his stuff inside (random stuff he has ordered off the internet - how many flying Woot monkeys do we really need?, an old box of high school clothes, etc).  Some of this crap isn't mine, hurrah!

I Want My Cake While I'm Eating It. Or Something Like That.

So I asked (told) my husband that for Mother's Day I wanted him to take both kids somewhere.  That was not in our house.  Not to Home Depot, which is where he usually takes them when I get that look on my face, but somewhere entertaining.  For like five or six hours.  Except I don't want to have to rush around cleaning or doing messy projects while they are gone.  I want to watch my DVR shows and eat junk food without sharing.  And except, here's the kicker, I don't want him to do it on actual Mother's Day.  On Mother's Day I want to be a mom. With the kids.  But to celebrate being a mom, I want to be un-mommed for a bit. My husband (the BHitW) is really wonderful at stepping in, doing anything the girls need and house stuff too.  In general, however, the feeding/schedule-keeping/changing/entertaining falls to me by default.  As a person who would regularly remember to eat breakfast at 3pm (except coffee, a mom's gotta have standards) and who does not naturally keep a schedule, this is draining.  So just a little break from that.  Reasonable request?  Or guilty for asking for two "special days?"

Why watching Doomsday Preppers is a bad idea

First, a random for you.  When my blog loads (remember, I am VERY NEW at this) the title text pops up in Comic Sans before it switches to whatever the name is of the other font I picked.  I always feel a wave of nausea and my heart race for a second.  I am not a Comic Sans fan and would never choose it, so this makes me sad.

Ok, on to other topics.  Has anyone seen the show Doomsday Preppers?  My husband just started putting it on the DVR and I occasionally watch it with him.  I've also seen a few episodes of Extreme Couponing.  Here is my issue.  I am not-so-good in stressful situations.  I mean, I can handle a burst pipe, or running out of diapers, or even calling 911 and starting CPR if someone falls down clutching their chest.  But continually struggling for food, water, safety, sleep, etc would not be something I was good at.  So, as morbid as this sounds, if an apocalyptic event happens, I kinda hope I am in the first wave of people who don't make it.  My husband could make it.  At least for awhile.  So he just keeps putting in requests to buy weaponry, which I refuse with small children in the house.  My other problem with DP and ExCou (haha, just made that up) is that we have suddenly, with two small children, starting going through multiple gallons of milk in a week.  So now I have this urge to keep an unopened gallon in the fridge at all times.  And if I crack open my back-up gallon, all I can think of is, "when is the next time I can get to the grocery store?" or "is it worth another twenty minutes of this afternoon-time-waiting-for-daddy-crazy-child-wrangling to send him to the store before he comes home from work?"  I don't know what I think is going to happen if we actually run out of milk. It is now seeping into other areas.  Toothpaste.  Dental floss.  Peanut butter pretzels.  Logical, I am not.

How long would you survive in a zombie attack?  Do you run out of milk on a weekly basis?  Have you ever bought 40 bottles of hot sauce?

Intro, finally.

So I'm a thirty-something SAHM (not necessarily by choice) to two little girls.  I haven't thought my way through all of the internet blogging security issues, so I will call them Bug (almost three) and Squish (almost one) here.  Bug because she used to curl up like a little bug against me when she was tiny.  I was trying to reserve that nickname for her.  My heart broke a little bit when Squish was born on the first day of June and the doctor goes, "oh, you have a little junebug."  Squish is, well squishy.  Her sister had some adorable baby chub, but Squish is covered with arm rolls and tummy packs and some of the best baby thigh chub you've ever seen.  It was a surprise to me and Squish she became.  I love it.

I have The Best Husband in the World.  He is thoughtful, kind, and smart.  He knows where to scratch my back when it itches.  He bakes and cooks, gardens and cleans (some).  He lets the girls do his hair and comes to our tea parties.  Sometimes with a big hat on.  He is scared of craft time and glitter (that may be related to my aforementioned non-love of cleaning).  He cleans all of our girl hair out of the drains in our bathroom (but he makes me share a bathroom with the girls, so he has a man-bathroom), he makes homemade ice cream, he eats strange meals I make with little complaint.  He also makes fun of me when I get lost within three blocks of our house and deliberately brings up controversial topics on long road trips so I'll stay awake and argue with him.  He still pretty much rocks.


I'm sure I'll end up sharing more.  Maybe one day I'll even share a link to this blog somewhere so I'll get some readers.  Or not :)