Houston is Home.

As I watch the evacuation of the city of Houston, so many feelings and memories have flooded (pun intended) back to me.  The anxiety of wondering what is to come is not lost on me.  I spent the day refreshing river gauge charts, seeing what streets were clear, and checking neighbor's photos as if I was still there, waiting to see if the water was going to get back into my home.  That feeling cannot be shaken.  You cannot just forget being a part of a major flood event.  It sticks to you and all of your belongings.  

Almost exactly a year ago, we moved back into our previously flooded home.  We had walls, 60% flooring, and about a million and a 

half boxes of stuff to be loaded back into our house.  We try very hard to be OK with what we were dealt.  It could have happened to anyone.  

While we did not have totally devastation, our life and home was uprooted in one of the most devastating ways possible.  Flooding should be considered one of the worst natural disasters to ever experience.  It’s predicted for days, maybe even weeks, you can watch it coming for you, and if it wants to come in, it will, and there is very little you can do to stop it.  And when it comes, it stays until it decides to leave.  

Even though it feels like a life time ago… our lives have all changed so much, I can vividly remember going back to the house to check on the damage that occurred the day before.  When we drove up to the road leading to our neighborhood, you could look to one side and see a lake size mass of water, to the other, completely dry.  Once we passed over the two streets-turned-creeks to get to our house, it was like a completely different world than our friends’ houses.  Everywhere else was basically business as usual, we were suddenly across the universe in a disaster torn territory.  I was truly shocked.  To see your things floating about and making mental notes of things ruined is just mind blowing.  I don’t think I have the capability to describe the exact feelings I had for months.  

Your life stops.  Everything stops.  There is no bigger shove in the back than seeing the things you’ve collected over the years destroyed right in front of you.  The the biggest bitch is that you have to clean it all up.  

We’ve spent the last year trying to make normal again.  Trying unsuccessfully, NOT to start every conversation with “One time, when my house flooded…” Trying to pretend like hearing people complain about certain things doesn’t upset me when all I can think is, “Well, at least you’ve never had a flooded house.” Trying to show my children what normal is like again.  That sleepovers don’t include your parents or last a month. And explaining to them that your house is your haven and you should feel safe there. 

Watching this happen, again, on such a larger scale, in a place I used to call home… to my friends who helped my family get through the worst year of my life is gut wrenching.  Houston is the city where I built my family, it’s where I learned to be a grown up, and it’s where I made a home.  

When you see these disasters on the news, you feel bad for these people.  You may wonder why they’d live in an area so easily compromised. It’s so easy to lump it as another unfortunate event.  But I was one of those people.  My story will be there story, over and over again.

As I watch and read about my friends evacuating and helping others get out of flooded areas, I keep remembering that they’re the people that helped pull up my carpet, tear out my walls, and made me meals.  They offered space in their homes for our things and our bodies.  They came to my home, not knowing who I was, and told me it was going to be OK.  They gave their time and resources to my misfortune because they were there.  A year later, I see them doing it again.  

And this is Houston.  This is Houston Strong.  

Pray for them.  Pray for all of Houston.

Let the Clean Up... BEGIN!

You know all those Pinterest projects you've started? Or the papers you were waiting to sort through and file? ....Or just the sink of dirty dishes you left the night before and thought, "Hey, I'll have time tomorrow.  We'll probably be flooded in."  OR when you only clean behind the toilets every other week, because you gave up on your toddler boys being able to aim, and this was the off week.  I would highly suggest you finish all of these things if you're being told your neighborhood is highly likely to flood.

So Friday morning, the flood waters magically receded.  It left as fast as it came.  We were in shock.  When we went in on Thursday, it was bad.  There's no sugar coating being waist deep in water on your lawn, or boating out of your street.  Most everyone was predicting that it would be 2 weeks before we'd be able to start any work.

We surveyed the damage.  I can finally tell my BFF Britt that I know what mud smells like. It's gross.  To me, the damage didn't seem terrible.  I had been watching the news, and saw whole homes underwater in neighboring towns.  We got about 3-4 inches on water all around the house. Jarod saved our electronics and pulled up as much as he could.  The biggest hits were the closets... because I never hang anything up or really put things away. (Out of sight, out of mind, right??)

First step, pull the carpet up.... scratch that, there's too much shit on the ground.

I'm not exactly sure what Jarod did on Friday, but I'm guessing it was pretty important.  I stood in my closet for a couple hours, trying to come up with a good plan.... we could probably just burn the bitch down and start anew! Joking aside, I got all the wet stuff out of there, and pulled up the carpet in the closet... You'd think this process would be therapeutic, but with a dull utility knife, it's just as frustrating as leaving it where it is... especially when you've been working on it for an hour and don't realize what's wrong.  I'm just saying, demo day may be stress relieving if you have the proper tools.

*Side note: I found out that my knife was dull, when I went to tell Jarod I wasn't sure I was doing it right, and saw him cut through carpet like butter with his brand new blade! Really?!?!

After a quick google search, I found that our wet clothes were salvageable.  A few quick washes and they should be OK.  Our plan to spend the night at the local washateria was squashed by our wonderful neighbors that took every single basket and bag to wash for us.  I just couldn't believe it! Hours and hours of time saved.  On top of that, another neighbor said we could store our things at their house.  (I was really wondering if they knew what they were getting into, but they're super nice. haha) I went home, and passed out.  I woke up to a dozen messages, tags, and notifications of people wanting to help.  People I knew, but mostly people I only kind of knew by their profile pic.  I could not believe it!

At one in the morning, I definitely thought we were OK, and I was certain there were probably others that needed more help than we did.  Turns out, we probably got the worst of it (believe it or not).  I didn't really know what needed to be done, but figured we could use a couple extra hands to help (Because cutting carpet is really hard with a dull knife.)The next day was nothing short of a miracle.

When we got to the house, we had 5, yes FIVE people waiting to help us.  (More or less, I honestly didn't count, but I tell people 5 for the effect).  Jarod sent myself and my friend Rowena on a trip to Costco to get bins for our crap... we took our time for a quick Starbucks run, too.  To come home to no less than 25 people in our house getting shit done.  I couldn't believe it! Half our carpet was ripped out, our things ready to be transferred.   I walked around for literally 2 hours not knowing what I could do.  All I can think is, I'm really glad we aren't into anything weird, because people were definitely seeing us in all our glory! People would ask me questions like "Would you like to keep this?" or "what can I do to help?" and I just kept telling them I didn't know.  I let Jarod make on the decisions.  I mean, I hate making real decisions in the first place, so I thought I was being normal.  Looking back, I think I'm still a little shocked.  New people would come in and I would say "Hi!" and try to stop myself from saying "Excuse the mess"

...ummm it's a mess because there was literally a river running through the house.

In any case, Rivers Edge has been nothing short of amazing to us! The HOURS and MONEY that they saved us, the support that we were given, the new friends we've made.... I. just. can't.  Out of this long essay, I'm speechless when I think of the people that have been to our house.  All I can say is, thank you times infinity.  This is the glue that keeps people together.  This is the faith in humanity that the world should see, feel, and believe in.  I wish I could name every single person, because they truly deserve individual shout outs, but Rivers Edge, you truly are a community of family.  We love you all.  You didn't have to be there and you sought us out.  I can't think of any other place where I've heard there were TOO MANY Volunteers.

I truly appreciate everyone that has offered us help.  If I refuse, I'm sorry.  I still don't really get how much there is to do.  From what I hear, you just have to do it.  I know I'd force help onto you :)

I could probably ramble on and on, but I'll finish with this.  We will get through this.  We will be OK. We're a little crazy right now, but things will be normal soon.

Love to you all! (I don't usually say that...But I do.)

The Palmers

That Time I Became a Flood Refugee...

Without the National Guard and Texas Task Force 1, we wouldn't have had a way out of our neighborhood.  Without these men and women, I would not be making jokes and my boys would not be OK.  They came into a horrible situation, stayed calm, were extremely organized, and SPENT TIME WITH PEOPLE.  Amazing.  Just amazing.
 I want to thank EVERYONE who has called, prayed, and messaged us.  We cannot believe the amount of people willing to help us and feel TRULY blessed to have found so many wonderful friends and family.
The Bragg family has been nothing short of amazing to us.  From finding a way to pick the boys and me up with road closures everywhere to housing us.  I just feel so blessed to have met Emerald on the sunny day at the playground...where we didn't talk to each other or make eye contact, but became Facebook Friends.
There will be cussing in this post, if you're not into that, sorry I'm not sorry.  But my house is fucking flooded and I'm a little upset about it.
I'm really bad at emergency packing "light" and realize why I have to start packing a week in advance.

Yes... our house has water it in.

Something we've never imagined would happen to us.  Through all the bad rainstorms and flash flooding that has happened all around, we've never gained water in this way.  I suppose that's why they call it the "flood of the century."  Literally... the last time the Brazos River flooded this bad was 1913.  (I googled it)

So here the story goes...

However long ago (I totally forget, maybe over the weekend) I had heard there would be flooding in our area because of storms to the north of us.  I definitely thought, whatever... but decided to flood prep anyway.  By "flood prep" I mean, I went to the grocery store 3 times to buy snacks and thought about packing a bag.  I have a reason for this!  Over the past year, there have been several threats of flooding, and I've prepared, packed a bag, let everyone know and nothing happened..  NOTHING.  Sometimes, we didn't even see rain.  My sandbags stayed in their pouches, unopened, to my dismay, and I just sat at home, watching the river levels on the inter webs.

So, they said the river would crest on Monday, which it didn't... then Tuesday... when it didn't... and we were thinking, this is dumb.  Other areas of our neighborhood started to gain water through the storm drains, and we had dry streets.  We went to a friend's for dinner and joked around about how our neighborhood was on the news for nothing... well, Mother Nature is a bitch that will show you what's up.  Wednesday morning, I woke up to street flooding to the curb.  I had expected this days ago, so I went back to bed.  I checked a few hours later to find a mother fucking moat outside my house.  Just what the actual fuck? We went from 0 to 100 in a few hour's time.  I actually changed out of my flannel pajamas (Which I did go outside in, to see what's going on) I grabbed the nearest hockey bag and just started stuffing shit into it as fast as possible.  Which, as it turned out, meant a strange array of clothing that does not match.  P.S. my evacuation outfit sucked.

As Jarod hurried us out the door, and we were met by wonderful members of The National Guard and Texas Task Force 1.   It was almost  the equivalent to valet service, if I didn't look like a Vietnam refugee.

Look at my face....

While this is never anything you'd want your children to endure, I think it was the best possible experience I could have imagined. The National Guard guys took time to listen to Sammy ("Have you ever heard of a whale shark?") answer questions, and kept us calm.  I cannot thank them enough for their assistance not only to us, but our entire area. Long day, short... we made it to our friends house safe and sound.  

Now Jarod... I legit went apeshit on him in front of many people on the phone.   Of course, he wanted to stay and go down with the ship after I JUST told him, "Do NOT try to be our savior.  Think safe."  He is NOT a Captain, and I refused to lose my husband in the Brazos River.  After about 3 hours of constant nagging and having a neighbor come help.  Jarod joined us, safe and dry.  

Wednesday morning, after realizing that I only pulled leggings and layering tanks for myself, I convince Jarod that it would be a good idea to head back to our water front property, we travelled over, close to our neighborhood, parked, and ventured in.  

Devastation.  I'm exaggerating, but that's really the only feeling I think of when we started walking into our section.  Just dirty water everywhere. At this point, I had a small hope that there wasn't water in our house.  Several people had stayed behind and they still have electricity.  It couldn't be that bad.  Jarod thought, otherwise.  He had been there until the water had reached our flower beds.  He had a good idea of how much more the water had to rise to get into our house.  

When we got to the front, our sandbags were floating.  Definitely not a good sign.  When we walked in the door, I thought I was in some sort of Zombie Apocalypse.  It was dark (because we turned the power off and the shades were shut). Water was everywhere.  Lost socks and toys were now floating around.  We surveyed the damage and came to the conclusion that we were a little screwed (Just a little).  At that point, we had to hurry because who knows what was floating around and I'm pretty sure I was just surrounded by flesh eating bacteria.  

We bagged everything in garbage bags and Jarod got our radio flyer.  Our freezer was still frozen, so we put as much as we could in coolers and I packed up as many snacks and Vienna Sausages as I could.  I sure as hell wasn't going to allow my stash float away for some alligator (I'm pretty sure if they found out how good SPAM was, they'd never eat another person, again). 

We had seen some evacuation boats going around, so I called in to be taken out.  Kind of like a shuttle service for refugees.  Even though we totally took advance of the Texas Task Force here, they were so nice, helpful, and even took all of our stuff right to our friend's car! 

So, things I grab during a flood emergency....

Leggings, tons of leggings... When Jarod said the National Guard was at our door and the boys and I had to leave then, I just started pulling things from drawers and throwing it in a bag.  This is when I really regret separating my clothing by type.  Leggings and layering shirts.  That's all I've got.  The boys have more underwear than they could ever want, and towels.  Holy mother of TOWELS. 

There was this time, my Dad was telling me about evacuating Vietnam.  Once they made their first stop, there were National Geographic photographers going around.  They asked my grandma what she brought with her.  Towels.  She brought towels.  I am Susan.  

Even after my second trip through, I thought I had grabbed some sweat pants, or something other than leggings.  Nope.  Can't find that bag.  Must have left that bag behind.  And deodorant! Anyone who knows me knows I need it.  Nope, can't find it.  Been using Jarod's (Didn't ask, either.  We're refugees! It's survival time.)

As I type, there are pictures and posts that the water levels are going down.  Hopefully we will be able to get a least one vehicle out, soon.  Jarod and I haven't been able to work this week, which is pretty hard on our family.  

The last two days felt like a month.  No, I haven't cried.  No, I'm not freaking out so much.  I have zero plans, because I have been trying not to think about all the clothes and shoes I left sitting at the bottom of my closet.  Flooding and whatever else... I still have first world girl problems.  

Hello, my name is Vi, and I'm a semi-decent mommy.

So, Sammy and I have been working on writing for quite some time.  I used to be really tough on him about it.  I mean, how hard could this really be?  Never mind the fact that I had zero inklings of reading until the midpoint of first grade, but that's a different sort of learning disability... and story. So, I'd lose my temper, threaten to take away privileges... all the things that would make anyone a Class A Mother.  This mommy dearest act translated into play time as well.  Sammy is really into puzzles and those darn millimeter sized legos that take an hour to put together.  He also is determined to do it himself... this is.. frustrating.  I just wanted to get it done.   All the yelling and arguing between us results in zero to no progress, which sucks for the both of us.

After the poor child has dealt with this for the first 3.5 years of his life and finally gained enough vocabulary to express himself, he fires this one at me:  "Stop yelling at me! I am TRYING to be a good boy." Please break my heart, Sam.  File this under: Things You Need to Hear.  He really was trying, and he's always trying to be the best boy.  I decided to reassess the situation, talk to a few people, and figure out how to teach my son without sending him into adult therapy with his mommy issues.

I needed to enjoy this time with the guy.   I needed him to be able to enjoy this time with me. How many times do you get to say, "I taught my son to write his name."?  So, I came up with a system that he could enjoy succeeding in and I learned to take a breath.  When we are learning, Sam's efforts fall into 3 categories: OK, Good, and Fantastic.  Yes, Sam loves to be fantastic.  Every time he tries, it's an honest effort, whatever it looks like, if he stays on the page, it's OK, but we're striving for Fantastic, always.  If he can finish do the lesson in his fantastic ways, he gets to go play, even if it's on try #1.  And there are days that he doesn't want to do our hour of learning, which I understand.  He gets the choice of a nap or learning.  If he's been trying to do his writing, and keeps doing an OK job, he can stop and go take a nap.  You get the gist here.  This has been the most successful way to get Sam to do just about anything I want him to learn.  Kid LOVES to be fantastic.  It's a win-win.

I've been a mom for what, 4 going on 5 years now?  It is hard.  When they tell you, "things get easier," after you have a newborn and you're awake all night making sure they're breathing, OR when you're potty training, but mostly cleaning up poop on the ground, OR when your kid tells you they hate you for the first time... I'll tell you right now, those people are full of shit.  I STILL check to make sure my kids are breathing, there is always crap to clean up off the ground, aaand from what I remember as a teenager, your kids will always hate you...just a little bit.  I have not reached the half a decade mark, and I realize that, when you are a mother, no matter how old your children are, you will never have it easy.

Before I had Sam, I remember I had a talk with my BFF Britt, and told her I didn't want to be one of those moms that didn't let their kids have the toys they really wanted.  I could remember so many times where I'd want something so so bad, and wouldn't even get it for Christmas.  So if they wanted it, whatever, they could have it.  She replied with, "So you want to spoil them (period.)." Well... I guess so.  Turns out, you can't do that. Needless to say, and in the most clique way possible, my idea of parenthood was completely wrong from day 1.  I will spare you all the details of my WTF moments, but really.

W.T.F?

I worked really hard to keep up with mommy bloggers and this idea that I could be just as super as what I'm seeing others do.  Not to mention, just about every mother that was around me did not do the things I did, and thought I was weird.  Jarod wasn't buying it either.  I must have been doing everything wrong.  Keep in mind I'm dealing with my concussed psychopath who thought this was a great time to start a business that relied on me to do a lot of work I never knew people had to do.  Anyway, I considered myself to be a terrible mom.

Reality was and is that I'm pretty good.  After my mini meltdown and the rebuild of my self confidence and life, I realized that I will never be a Super Mommy.  #1 I already fail, because I don't have a job.  And let's face it, a nine to fiver really isn't for me.  #2 The idea of conforming to whatever is trendy or doing things I honestly don't like doing has never appealed to my psyche. #3 I am a Negative Nancy. So anyway, I decided that life, when categorized and compartmentalized, easily is scaled into my learning system.  In this case, in your mommy-ing, you can be OK, Good, or Fantastic.

Here are a few generals for each:

The OK Mommy

Children appear clean in public
Children run around like wild chickens and get in personal space, but they don't hit, lick, or bite people
3 meals are served, no questions on how or where this came about.
The house is clean, though it may not be visibly clean to company.
Though you may not shower for the day or changed your clothes, you got out of bed at a decent hour of the morning.

The GOOD Mommy

Children are actually clean, though clothes may not be the right size (cleaning out the closet after the growth spurt is on the list...)
Children will do as they please in public, BUT return when called back.
3 meals are served, at least 2 made in the home kitchen
House is clean, and by the end of the day, things APPEAR to be in their place, regardless of where they are actually stuffed.
Showering is optional, but you got those cute gym clothes on that now act as lounge wear.

The FANTASTIC Mommy

Children are clean and have clothes on that fit and match.
Children follow your lead like little ducklings should.
Your 3 meals were served, all made by your loving hands that also planned out your meals for this week AND next
House is clean AND organized *Labels optional
Shower occurred before the fam bam woke up and you're wearing jeans.

This little scaling system took 4 showers (where I do all my best thinking), a week day scheduler, a wall of post it notes, and a handful of writing sessions with Sammy to develop.  This has mostly made my self esteem go up about 10 points on that endless scale, and made me sleep a little easier.  I'll be honest here.  I handle being Fantastic Mommy for probably 3 out of 5 week days for the past 2 weeks.  I usually hover around OK to Good, mostly because Jarod's been out of town, and let's not kid ourselves, who is this show really for?

My point here is, everyone wants to be a fantastic mommy... maybe even be a super mommy.  But some days, it's really hard to write between the lines and in the same way, it's hard to get out of that robe and make those meals.  Just go with it enjoy your time, take a nap, and tomorrow, you'll be fantastic.

My Quarter- Life Crisis.

For the past two years or so, I've fallen off the inter webs into the shadows of "creep status," mostly just watching everyone on social media and feeling bad for myself.  Life had turned upside, once again, and I am never anywhere near prepared for it.  What do I do? Go into survival mode.

Let's rewind to let's say… 8 years ago.  These were my basic worries:
1. Learning all the words to Lil' Wayne's 3 peat.
2. Winning radio call-in contests.
3. Steering clear of Chau Pham.

About 5 seconds after completing college, I was suddenly in mommy mode, I was a wife, moving for the first time in my life, and having to make friends… for the first time in my life.  Happiest time ever, right?  Let's throw in a few concussions, another baby, a career change, a semi-truck collision and starting a new business.

I look in the mirror and suddenly I'm 92 pounds (literally, you can see my chest bones), I'm regularly covering dark circles under my eyes, and I've got a 2 year old handing me 3 used lollipop sticks.  I have zero to no friends, no hobbies, and (at the time) couldn't tell you the last time I changed out of my pajamas.  Seriously? This is my life? …. This. Is. My. Life.

I'm not sure how many people know this, but I have quiet a talent in creating derogatory poetry.  This little ditty has been pounding in my head… about myself:

*Sung to the tune of "Happy Birthday"*

Con-grats to you!

You live in a zoo!

You smell like a gym rat, 

But you look like a deflated balloon

I obviously love myself a lot right now.  So what do I do?

I chop all my hair off and go ape-shit crazy.

After Jarod's ump-teenth concussion and the painstaking decision to quit playing to start coaching, Jarod lost the first love of his life and best friend.  Losing Jon was like losing a limb for Jarod.  I watched him struggle through concussions, but here, Jarod lost a piece of his heart.  This became torturous for him; as he worked through the grief, it was almost as if there was nothing worth the time to enjoy in this life, something he still struggles with.  He distanced himself from everyone.  No more connections seemed worth it.

We worked through it and we worked hard.  We moved into our first real home, our hockey clinic was taking off (positives), then Jarod met up with a semi-truck (another concussion), made it out alive (positive), we gained 3 teen brothers plus their two friends for a good portion of 6 months, and for the first time in my life, I felt like an adult.  We made it through all in one piece, I forgot those darn Christmas cards, but we made it through.

Our first summer in our new home was supposed to be easy and in one place.  Instead, we decided it would be best to travel the country in my mini-van *just one last time* Let's skip over the details and call this "The Straw that Broke the Camel's Back"…. as I refer to it "The Trip that Broke Mommy's Brain."

So here I am 2015, looking to make some big changes.  I freaking hate resolutions.  I made a resolution a few years back to never make one again.  I stuck to it.  I think my biggest problem has been that I have no idea who I am anymore.  I spend my days in a daze, hanging out with my two BFF's, not doing much at all, getting yelled at by Jarod Palmer (instead of Chau Pham) for not doing what I'm supposed to do at home (Wait,has life really not changed that much?).

I've decided to reexamine my life.  One piece at a time.  I keep telling myself, there are all the things I can change NOW, but it turns out, I just get overwhelmed and don't get anything done but add pins to my Pinterest of the life I should have.

So here it is, Hello, My name is Vi Palmer and I'm getting out of this funk.

Happy Mother's Day, Bitches: Why "Mommy Wars" are a crock of crap and other grievances....

When you meet me with my kids, the first thing that comes out of my mouth is usually something like this: "I'm sorry, my kids are really bad.  I'm a bad mom." You will most likely say "No! They're adorable!!" as they tear down furniture, finger shoot each other, and repeatedly ask for lollipops.

I've always found it strange when I hear about women competing to be the best all around person in the world.  If you are one of those people that do work hard, more power to you.  But I seemingly always compete to be most useless, worst mom in the world.  Maybe I'm humble, maybe I just think it's funny, maybe I really just don't care.  I'd just really like to say I love your FB posts and Pinterest projects. It's pretty sweet you get all those "likes".  All the same, I don't feel bad for you  or envy you when you're working so hard because you probably already have that "Mother of the Year" plaque on the wall.

 I think  sometimes we're really good at some things, and really bad at other things.  What we share is something we can agree to disagree on.  So, in recognition for Mother's Day, I compiled a list of the worst ways I am a mother, and a slightly horrible human being.  Hope this makes you feel even better about yourself!:

1. I blame my tardiness on my children, even though we all know, they're the first ones standing by the door shoes on, clothes ready, with clean faces.
2. Sometimes, I will yell at my kids before it's nap time because I know they fall asleep easier when they cry.
3. I tell Sam that it's ok to be upset, but he could probably use some alone time... only because I can't stand his whining anymore.
4. I make Sam say his "Please, May I"'s over and over again when he demands things... mostly because I'm too lazy to get what he wants the first time he asks.
5. I tell Jarod and other people that we need to wait longer to change Evan's poopy diapers because he may not be done... while this is semi true, I do it because I'm preparing myself.  Feces smell makes me gag.  In the same way, I pretend like I don't hear Sam yell "Mommy!" from the bathroom, when Jarod is home, because I know he wants someone to wipe his butt.
6. I sit on the toilet and pretend to be number two-ing to get some alone time while I browse Zulily.
7. One time, I forgot to feed Sam dinner, because he wouldn't eat what I made (typical).  I was starving and wanted a hot meal. I believe he had cookies for dinner that night.  (No complaints)
8. The boys think the grocery store is a toy store, because that's the only way I can shop without disturbances.
9. I regularly pretend I don't understand what Sammy is saying to get on HIS nerves.
10. These were my top 5 reasons for not breastfeeding:

-After that whole ordeal, I needed a shot glass of wine or five.  

-I refused to continue my healthy diet for the sake of my child.

-I found big boobs to be an annoyance.

-It was time for Daddy Jarod to carry the load for once.

-My little peaks didn't need to add "saggy" to their description.

What I've learned is no matter how bad the bad days can be being a mommy.  It's better than having your dog raise your baby (Peter Pan reference).  This is the short list of things I do that would probably disqualify me from having any more children, but I believe my boys are the happiest kids in the world.  I bet yours are too.  They could probably pass in society as normal.  I don't pretend to be an expert in anything, and unless you really are an expert in something, maybe we should just all give each other a little break.  Have a fun weekend celebrating yourselves!

Blogging Not Packing...

I thought packing a bag a week ago would help get a move on and have a relaxing last night at home, but life begs to differ.  I've got four half packed bags, a crazy messy room, and tons of things pending UPS shipment.  This is not going to happen.


Eh, all the same, this normally happens, but with more stuff not done yet.  I've probably sat through Finding Nemo (or as same calls it "Elmo fish") 11 times, watched countless ABC drama hit series, and yelled at Sam to stop taking things out of our luggage a million times in the last couple weeks... probs why nothing is done yet.

Jarod seems to think that I'm more emotional that I like to put out and not packing = my way of dealing with it.  Yes, Jarod told me I have repressed feelings.  Whatevs.

I'll tell you something, I will be missing this:

Trash Day in the Neighborhood, but what I'm trying to say is, I'm going to miss Fall.

This time tomorrow, we'll be flying into Texas!  Well, that's if my children don't terrorize the entire plane (which hopefully will be empty on this fine Thursday Afternoon)

Updates in Texas when I get there!