I remember when decisions were made for me and I hated it. Now, I'm glad to have a partner to make a decision with, or have made for me.
So many things change as you get older. When Dusty and I were dating, our biggest decisions were, where are we going to eat, what were we going to do this weekend, and what do we want to watch on TV. Now, we base decisions off of our marriage-what is best for us as a couple, our kids-where they will go to school, how our decisions effect them, etc. etc. and lately-my grandmother.
Being a live in "caretaker" for my grandmother has been a journey. She had a huge hand in raising my brother and I, and boy am I thankful to have had her and my grandfather. They taught us so much and kept us grounded. She is one of the sweetest people you will ever meet, and makes the best sweets around. Not to mention light fluffy buttermilk biscuits:) While she is super sweet, she is super stubborn. Pretty sure that's where I got my "strong will" She's funny about things being the way and the time she wants. She has certain people that she likes to do certain things. Even though we live in the same house, she wants Uncle Jimmy to bring her paper every morning and feed the dog (which we also feed, so he's happy) Only Jeremy can change light bulbs and do handy work. Abbey takes her to the grocery store. Dad takes her to the Dr. My uncle takes her to Belk's. I get her prescriptions and fight with reverse mortgage companies, and Dusty takes her the mail! She is lucky to have so many people, but really, we are the lucky ones.
As our family has grown, our space has become limited to say the least. We are ready for our own place. This is something we've been talking about since Simon was born. We've talked, prayed, listened, sought advice, and talked some more. Should we buy, should we build, should we rent? Should we even move at all? I promised my grandfather in my last words to him that I would take care of her. Would he be disappointed? This is not a decision that has been easy or hasn't been completely thought out. Probably over analyzed by me. I do think that she is well enough to live on her own. She already does-we just happen to be downstairs.
It's time though. Our family of 4 needs to be on our own. We've decided to rent for now and wait on the market and for $$$preschool$$$ to be completed by both boys before we buy/build. It used to bother me that Dusty was terrified of commitment, but in this case, I think he's pretty smart.
I'll still get to go and see Mammie everyday. Pick up Gus from school and stop by and take her the mail. Pick her up for church on Sunday's and then maybe out for lunch if she's up to it. Gonna be a tough transition for all of us. But I know it's the right thing for our family now.
Therapeutic writing...hoping this helps!
Monday, July 25, 2011
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
It's just different
Trying to explain to Dusty how a mother's love is different is impossible. He tries to get it, but no man can really get it.
When your child is first born, those cries physically hurt you. You ache to hold your baby and make everything ok. Leaving them for the first time is equally as painful. By pain I mean, your heart hurts, your head hurts because of the cluster of thoughts, the guilt, the concerns, fear and love. All of these things cause true pain. There is no way to describe the bond formed by a mother and child. It is literally indescribable. Growing a human is the greatest gift, but boy does it have it's consequences.
The one I try most often to hide and explain, is the emotional toll. I can not watch a flippin Tide commercial without crying. If there is a child involved, there are tears for me. If I hear a sweet song, I cry. If I hear another mother's story, I'm having a breakdown. Uncontrollable emotions. Then, I get mad that I'm crying. Emotions triggering emotions. Beyond frustrating.
Simon is the sweetest little baby. He takes after his daddy in every way possible. The same blue/green eyes, the same build, the same head shape, and the same tender heart. Granted, Dusty doesn't cry when he's hungry-but he comes really close sometimes. Baby Simon gets his feelings hurt when you take something away from him. He cries when I set him down. He looses his breath when I walk out of the room. I do not get mad or blame him, because I created this. I wanted him to be my little baby. I let him sleep on me as much as possible when I was home...and still do.
I don't mind eating cold food because he wants his mamma. He won't be this way for long. Dusty is going to have pals for life. They aren't going to call me for advice. I'll embarrass them and they'll hate me for making them clean their rooms. Plus all these girls they date will not receive warm welcomes from me. So I choose to take my time with them now, while they still like 'ol Mom. Before they are embarrassed to be seen with me, or near me.
Being a mom is just different. You love far beyond your own boundaries, and then a little past that. You worry about things that are completely out of your control,, things that may not ever happen,, and things that have already happened.
When your child is first born, those cries physically hurt you. You ache to hold your baby and make everything ok. Leaving them for the first time is equally as painful. By pain I mean, your heart hurts, your head hurts because of the cluster of thoughts, the guilt, the concerns, fear and love. All of these things cause true pain. There is no way to describe the bond formed by a mother and child. It is literally indescribable. Growing a human is the greatest gift, but boy does it have it's consequences.
The one I try most often to hide and explain, is the emotional toll. I can not watch a flippin Tide commercial without crying. If there is a child involved, there are tears for me. If I hear a sweet song, I cry. If I hear another mother's story, I'm having a breakdown. Uncontrollable emotions. Then, I get mad that I'm crying. Emotions triggering emotions. Beyond frustrating.
Simon is the sweetest little baby. He takes after his daddy in every way possible. The same blue/green eyes, the same build, the same head shape, and the same tender heart. Granted, Dusty doesn't cry when he's hungry-but he comes really close sometimes. Baby Simon gets his feelings hurt when you take something away from him. He cries when I set him down. He looses his breath when I walk out of the room. I do not get mad or blame him, because I created this. I wanted him to be my little baby. I let him sleep on me as much as possible when I was home...and still do.
I don't mind eating cold food because he wants his mamma. He won't be this way for long. Dusty is going to have pals for life. They aren't going to call me for advice. I'll embarrass them and they'll hate me for making them clean their rooms. Plus all these girls they date will not receive warm welcomes from me. So I choose to take my time with them now, while they still like 'ol Mom. Before they are embarrassed to be seen with me, or near me.
Being a mom is just different. You love far beyond your own boundaries, and then a little past that. You worry about things that are completely out of your control,, things that may not ever happen,, and things that have already happened.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Learning to fit
Ever feel like you just don't fit somewhere? I think I've felt that way most of my life. When I find someone that I really like, I tell Dusty "they're us people." I don't like being made felt inadequate, left out, dumb, or wrong. (unless I'm wrong)
I think of myself as the black sheep of the family. Maybe even a goat, on top of it's house, with it's hooves painted pink...standing out from the crowd by a mile.
While the rest of my family is in real estate, I sell insurance. I love what I do. For whatever reason, once people find out that I am Steve Owen's daughter (& most of them don't even know he has a daughter), they are floored that I'm not working in real estate. I tell them "I do work in real estate-I clean their bathrooms." It just doesn't interest me. I'd probably be better off working there, but I'm ok being me and loving what I do everyday. Point is, I'm happy and tired of trying to convince people that I'm good.
I know that my choices aren't the choices of others. I'm sure I've made wrong decisions and done things a little backwards more than once, but God has led me to where I am and I am beyond thankful for my blessings. So many differences exist, but different isn't wrong/bad. I like making my own way-it feels better. I am to the point in my life that I think most of us get to. It's like take it or leave it. Of course there is always room to work on the better version of myself. Striving for excellence I believe my pastor calls it:)
I don't like being in a crowded, stiff room where I obviously don't belong. I don't like the uncomfortable feeling of trying to fit. I've never pretended or claimed to be something or someone that I am not. I don't need to impress anyone, and I think it looks foolish to do so. Don't compromise your character by playing a part. I've heard people's accent change just by being around someone with an accent. Also, I am not a fan of the fake laugh! Stick to your guns and be you. I can usually tell when I annoy people and I'll get my feelings hurt and turn to anger. But I'm going to be working on that. You do you, I'll do me.
So I guess this learning to fit rant kinda turned into me being me...Square peg in a round hole in most situations-just can't make it fit! I shall surround myself with squares.
I think of myself as the black sheep of the family. Maybe even a goat, on top of it's house, with it's hooves painted pink...standing out from the crowd by a mile.
While the rest of my family is in real estate, I sell insurance. I love what I do. For whatever reason, once people find out that I am Steve Owen's daughter (& most of them don't even know he has a daughter), they are floored that I'm not working in real estate. I tell them "I do work in real estate-I clean their bathrooms." It just doesn't interest me. I'd probably be better off working there, but I'm ok being me and loving what I do everyday. Point is, I'm happy and tired of trying to convince people that I'm good.
I know that my choices aren't the choices of others. I'm sure I've made wrong decisions and done things a little backwards more than once, but God has led me to where I am and I am beyond thankful for my blessings. So many differences exist, but different isn't wrong/bad. I like making my own way-it feels better. I am to the point in my life that I think most of us get to. It's like take it or leave it. Of course there is always room to work on the better version of myself. Striving for excellence I believe my pastor calls it:)
I don't like being in a crowded, stiff room where I obviously don't belong. I don't like the uncomfortable feeling of trying to fit. I've never pretended or claimed to be something or someone that I am not. I don't need to impress anyone, and I think it looks foolish to do so. Don't compromise your character by playing a part. I've heard people's accent change just by being around someone with an accent. Also, I am not a fan of the fake laugh! Stick to your guns and be you. I can usually tell when I annoy people and I'll get my feelings hurt and turn to anger. But I'm going to be working on that. You do you, I'll do me.
So I guess this learning to fit rant kinda turned into me being me...Square peg in a round hole in most situations-just can't make it fit! I shall surround myself with squares.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Look at who we have
I've talked about the American Dream before and how it means different things to different people. We, like a lot of people, struggle to make it through week to week, paycheck to paycheck. It's life. We aren't any better than anyone else, and we don't deserve anything special. We have 2 cars, 2 kids, 2 daycare costs, and countless bills. We get it paid. Some months, it's scrappy groceries-but we get it paid.
It would be easy to wallow in our sadness over stuff we don't have. First and foremost, I'd love to have my own house. I'd love to have a singlewide trailer. Something that was mine-my own space (our family's own space) I don't mind being around to take care of my grandmother. I'd do anything in the world for her and want to see her stay at home. But living with anyone will eventually wear on you and cause issues. You have to put yourself aside completely as a mother and as a caretaker for an elderly person. You are on their time! More stuff I'd like-lots of clothes and shoes and new furniture and stuff that I don't even have room for. Yeah-stuff!!
Most people are in the same boat as us. They get help from their parents be it monetary, caretaking of their grandkids to avoid daycare costs, or in our case, no rent/mortgage. We're all in the same boat in one way or another. Unless you're what "us people" call rich and actually own your home and all your stuff.
But you know what-it's ok. We are happy. We know that stuff won't make us happy. Money would just cause us to buy more stuff or things that we don't really need. We are ok just getting by because it's what we do and who we are for this moment in time. Soon enough the boys will be in school and we'll wonder what to do with all this extra money. Oh yeah, college tuition for 2! Soon enough, the boys will be out of the house and we'll have too much extra room, empty space. The house will be quiet and we will miss their voices.
Dusty and I stood in the kitchen this morning on our anniversary and I looked down at both of the boys and instead of saying, "look at all we have" I said "look at who we have!" What a wonderful blessing those boys are! They make up for all the stuff in the world.
It would be easy to wallow in our sadness over stuff we don't have. First and foremost, I'd love to have my own house. I'd love to have a singlewide trailer. Something that was mine-my own space (our family's own space) I don't mind being around to take care of my grandmother. I'd do anything in the world for her and want to see her stay at home. But living with anyone will eventually wear on you and cause issues. You have to put yourself aside completely as a mother and as a caretaker for an elderly person. You are on their time! More stuff I'd like-lots of clothes and shoes and new furniture and stuff that I don't even have room for. Yeah-stuff!!
Most people are in the same boat as us. They get help from their parents be it monetary, caretaking of their grandkids to avoid daycare costs, or in our case, no rent/mortgage. We're all in the same boat in one way or another. Unless you're what "us people" call rich and actually own your home and all your stuff.
But you know what-it's ok. We are happy. We know that stuff won't make us happy. Money would just cause us to buy more stuff or things that we don't really need. We are ok just getting by because it's what we do and who we are for this moment in time. Soon enough the boys will be in school and we'll wonder what to do with all this extra money. Oh yeah, college tuition for 2! Soon enough, the boys will be out of the house and we'll have too much extra room, empty space. The house will be quiet and we will miss their voices.
Dusty and I stood in the kitchen this morning on our anniversary and I looked down at both of the boys and instead of saying, "look at all we have" I said "look at who we have!" What a wonderful blessing those boys are! They make up for all the stuff in the world.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Trapped
Vacation was nice and pretty uneventful. Oddly uneventful. So we came home and made an event.
Saturday morning we were getting back into our routine, washing clothes, organizing,etc. I put some eggs on the stove for an egg salad sandwiches and went to shower. Dusty was going to put some clothes away and closed the door in order to get into his closet. I rounded the corner in time to see him tugging diligently on the door handle. Twisting, turning, tugging and turning a different color. Hmmmm..what's the problem? The door isn't budging.
There are a few ways that I could react, of course I choose panic mode. We'll never get out, who will raise the children? Why did this happen to us? We're good people! We'll surely die before the days end!! Dusty is going through dresser drawers looking for his weapon of choice...im thinking..pants..shorts, what are you looking for exactly? I look on top of the bookshelf for the tiny screwdriver we have there due to Gus' habit of locking the bathroom door from the inside. I find the tiny screwdriver and get to work- by work I mean more panic. Our phones are on the other side, we can't call for help, oh God help us! Gus starts pulling on the other side and I explain to him that we are stuck and he needs to go tell Mammie that she needs to call Uncle. This means Gus is going to take the gate down and give Simon. Access to the stairs. Yay. So we find a regular screwdriver (for whatever reason it was on top of Dusty's nightstand-kinda alarming) and Dusty starts working.
I hear Mammie trying to open the door and explain to her what's going on. She goes upstairs to call Jeremy. Of course for those of you who know Mammie, you realize that this might take a minute. Also, there is the fact that she has a cordless phone but has to stand next to the handset in her mind. She will even set down the cordless phone to go find a phone number to recite to me as I wait on the other end.
I am still in panic mode and beginning to cry and rock back and forth if sitting or pacing. I yell for Gus and he's not responding...that means he went upstairs. So where is baby Simon? Is he alone? Is he scared? Is he halfway up the stairs? Dusty tells me" go over there Emily" in hindsight im wondering what good would 5ft away do? He felt as though he needed to be in control of an out of control situation. So I do what any out of control, panicked, worried mom would do-started chipping away at that door as hard and as fast as I could with the screwdriver. After about a minute Dusty took over while I resumed pacing and talking about the boys being raised while we were trapped in our room, how scared Simon must be and how much I would miss the sunshine. Dusty said here hold the screwdriver at an angle (very obviously not listening to me explain how our lives were OVER) so I did and kept on explaining our certain doom and pop, he pulled the door open.
Oh. That's it? We're out? I run upstairs and tell Mammie we're free and kiss my children. Mammie and Gus had each taken one of Simon's hands and drug him up the stairs:) I came back down and saw there was still 8 minutes left on the eggs...the timer was set for 15 minutes. Longest 7 minutes ever!
Saturday morning we were getting back into our routine, washing clothes, organizing,etc. I put some eggs on the stove for an egg salad sandwiches and went to shower. Dusty was going to put some clothes away and closed the door in order to get into his closet. I rounded the corner in time to see him tugging diligently on the door handle. Twisting, turning, tugging and turning a different color. Hmmmm..what's the problem? The door isn't budging.
There are a few ways that I could react, of course I choose panic mode. We'll never get out, who will raise the children? Why did this happen to us? We're good people! We'll surely die before the days end!! Dusty is going through dresser drawers looking for his weapon of choice...im thinking..pants..shorts, what are you looking for exactly? I look on top of the bookshelf for the tiny screwdriver we have there due to Gus' habit of locking the bathroom door from the inside. I find the tiny screwdriver and get to work- by work I mean more panic. Our phones are on the other side, we can't call for help, oh God help us! Gus starts pulling on the other side and I explain to him that we are stuck and he needs to go tell Mammie that she needs to call Uncle. This means Gus is going to take the gate down and give Simon. Access to the stairs. Yay. So we find a regular screwdriver (for whatever reason it was on top of Dusty's nightstand-kinda alarming) and Dusty starts working.
I hear Mammie trying to open the door and explain to her what's going on. She goes upstairs to call Jeremy. Of course for those of you who know Mammie, you realize that this might take a minute. Also, there is the fact that she has a cordless phone but has to stand next to the handset in her mind. She will even set down the cordless phone to go find a phone number to recite to me as I wait on the other end.
I am still in panic mode and beginning to cry and rock back and forth if sitting or pacing. I yell for Gus and he's not responding...that means he went upstairs. So where is baby Simon? Is he alone? Is he scared? Is he halfway up the stairs? Dusty tells me" go over there Emily" in hindsight im wondering what good would 5ft away do? He felt as though he needed to be in control of an out of control situation. So I do what any out of control, panicked, worried mom would do-started chipping away at that door as hard and as fast as I could with the screwdriver. After about a minute Dusty took over while I resumed pacing and talking about the boys being raised while we were trapped in our room, how scared Simon must be and how much I would miss the sunshine. Dusty said here hold the screwdriver at an angle (very obviously not listening to me explain how our lives were OVER) so I did and kept on explaining our certain doom and pop, he pulled the door open.
Oh. That's it? We're out? I run upstairs and tell Mammie we're free and kiss my children. Mammie and Gus had each taken one of Simon's hands and drug him up the stairs:) I came back down and saw there was still 8 minutes left on the eggs...the timer was set for 15 minutes. Longest 7 minutes ever!
Friday, June 10, 2011
Was that you?
We are gathered here today...what was the rest?
You know the ole American Dream? House, cars, kids, love, fences, hammocks, dog, lemonade, bbq's, evening strolls, summer breezes, etc. I think we have a few of those-I just can't find the time to enjoy them. "Stop and smell the roses" We have roses? That's been the past few months. Adding baby Simon has been like adding 5 new people. I don't know if it's because we had such a good routine and were 2 against 1, always out-numbering the little person, or if that's just what happens. This is a typical afternoon.
Dusty picks up Gus. I pick up Simon. We meet at the front door. Hello. Go in and Dusty unloads Gus' lunch box, I unload Simon's diaper bag. Usually there is a dirty diaper, so I wash it out and add it to the diaper pail. Dusty starts making lunches, I start making dinner. Oh, grab Simon a bottle. Put the bottle in the microwave, 31 seconds and...breaker tripped. Turn off the toaster, microwave bottle, it's 100 degrees-oh yeah, turn AC back on. Start some laundry, "I wanna go outside and play" let Gus out-make him swear to stay in the front yard, continue with dinner as Simon pulls on my shorts. Scream at Gus to get back in the front yard. BREAD'S BURNING!!
Sit down to eat dinner...Gus doesn't like it. What do you want...uh candy and ice cream. Ok, well just eat this instead. Dusty eats while Simon clings to me, I go eat while Dusty bribes Gus to eat bite by bite, then Dusty gets 2nds while I start cleaning.
We play.
I wash Simon in the kitchen sink, Dusty gives Gus a bath (or vice versa) WHERE IS SIMON'S towel? Breaker tripped. Did you put the clothes in the dryer? No, I thought you did. Bring me the wipes. Now I need diaper rash cream. You give Gus his medicine while I give Simon his. Wait, I already gave Gus his. No, you didn't. Well then I already gave it to Simon. Are you sure? No. Did you take your medicine today? No...me either.
Time to put on jammers-which for whatever reason is also a signal that the end of the world is upon us. "I wanna do it myself" "Fine, do it" "I need help" "Ok" "Don't help me""Ok" "I'm telling" "Fine, tell" "Mommy-Daddy won't help me" ???? Do you want help or not???? Simon is falling asleep in my arms and Gus screams and wakes him up. Ok, I'm going to lay him in his crib- the only safe place for him in our home. "OK, Simon is asleep" "Bringing Gus in" Gus comes in- "I wanna read a stoooorrrryyy" Oh, lookey lookey, Simon's awake. One of us read's "OTIS" the story about a tractor-the same story we read every single night, night after night after night, and then we get ourselves ready for bed.
We're laying there and Gus comes in. 1. I need to go pee pee. 2. I need to brush my teeth. 3. I just forgot to give you guys hugs. 4. I need water. 5. I forgot to check on you guys. 6. There's a monster in my room. 7. Uhm, baby Simon flewed up (threw up) 8. There's a dragon snake under my bed. 9. Turn your TV off guys. 10. Just checking to see if you guys were scared. (That's the top 10 of an infinity of things that could go wrong)
Was that you I passed earlier with poop in your hair? Yeah, was that you hiding in the closet? Thought so.
Come to think of it, he never asks how I got the poop in my hair, and I never asked why he was hiding in the closet-it's pretty safe guessing either way.
Looking forward to our day date tomorrow-Walmart, here we come!!!
You know the ole American Dream? House, cars, kids, love, fences, hammocks, dog, lemonade, bbq's, evening strolls, summer breezes, etc. I think we have a few of those-I just can't find the time to enjoy them. "Stop and smell the roses" We have roses? That's been the past few months. Adding baby Simon has been like adding 5 new people. I don't know if it's because we had such a good routine and were 2 against 1, always out-numbering the little person, or if that's just what happens. This is a typical afternoon.
Dusty picks up Gus. I pick up Simon. We meet at the front door. Hello. Go in and Dusty unloads Gus' lunch box, I unload Simon's diaper bag. Usually there is a dirty diaper, so I wash it out and add it to the diaper pail. Dusty starts making lunches, I start making dinner. Oh, grab Simon a bottle. Put the bottle in the microwave, 31 seconds and...breaker tripped. Turn off the toaster, microwave bottle, it's 100 degrees-oh yeah, turn AC back on. Start some laundry, "I wanna go outside and play" let Gus out-make him swear to stay in the front yard, continue with dinner as Simon pulls on my shorts. Scream at Gus to get back in the front yard. BREAD'S BURNING!!
Sit down to eat dinner...Gus doesn't like it. What do you want...uh candy and ice cream. Ok, well just eat this instead. Dusty eats while Simon clings to me, I go eat while Dusty bribes Gus to eat bite by bite, then Dusty gets 2nds while I start cleaning.
We play.
I wash Simon in the kitchen sink, Dusty gives Gus a bath (or vice versa) WHERE IS SIMON'S towel? Breaker tripped. Did you put the clothes in the dryer? No, I thought you did. Bring me the wipes. Now I need diaper rash cream. You give Gus his medicine while I give Simon his. Wait, I already gave Gus his. No, you didn't. Well then I already gave it to Simon. Are you sure? No. Did you take your medicine today? No...me either.
Time to put on jammers-which for whatever reason is also a signal that the end of the world is upon us. "I wanna do it myself" "Fine, do it" "I need help" "Ok" "Don't help me""Ok" "I'm telling" "Fine, tell" "Mommy-Daddy won't help me" ???? Do you want help or not???? Simon is falling asleep in my arms and Gus screams and wakes him up. Ok, I'm going to lay him in his crib- the only safe place for him in our home. "OK, Simon is asleep" "Bringing Gus in" Gus comes in- "I wanna read a stoooorrrryyy" Oh, lookey lookey, Simon's awake. One of us read's "OTIS" the story about a tractor-the same story we read every single night, night after night after night, and then we get ourselves ready for bed.
We're laying there and Gus comes in. 1. I need to go pee pee. 2. I need to brush my teeth. 3. I just forgot to give you guys hugs. 4. I need water. 5. I forgot to check on you guys. 6. There's a monster in my room. 7. Uhm, baby Simon flewed up (threw up) 8. There's a dragon snake under my bed. 9. Turn your TV off guys. 10. Just checking to see if you guys were scared. (That's the top 10 of an infinity of things that could go wrong)
Was that you I passed earlier with poop in your hair? Yeah, was that you hiding in the closet? Thought so.
Come to think of it, he never asks how I got the poop in my hair, and I never asked why he was hiding in the closet-it's pretty safe guessing either way.
Looking forward to our day date tomorrow-Walmart, here we come!!!
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Mom wakes up from sickness and finds....
My dad has appropriately named us the "Sick family Robinson's" Out of 9 days, we have been to the dr 8 of them. Some days, two by two. It started with Gus on his birthday, went to Dusty-who never gets sick and I had to open my mouth. "If you get sick, me and Simon are really in for it" My throat started hurting and I kept putting it off. Simon got sick and there was talk of him being sent to Mission, so I put it off again. So I got all my little chickies sorted out and then I went to get myself checked out. Dr said my tonsils looked terrible...hmm..got my tonsils out in 2006...so they must look pretty bad by now. 2 days later I went back and got new meds since I'm allergic to the first meds and I'm feeling better & waking out of the hydrocodone coma.
At one point I remember saying something about the house, which was met with some grunting and glances. It looked like someone turned the house upside down and shook it, then set it right side up again. For whatever reason, the toy bins were completely empty. Some of the toys were outside on the sidewalk, they were of course all over inside surfaces/floors and even a few in the trash can. I know that taking on a house and 2 boys isn't easy but-why is there milk running down the oven? Has anyone..any one of you bathed? What have you been eating? Who had popcorn for breakfast? Not a single fruit or veggie is included in any of those items. You do realize there is an ant colony in this window sill? The blanket you've covered Simon with-is that the same one he threw up on that I had in the laundry basket? There is a pile of dollar store receipts on the counter and some art made out of Popsicle sticks.
Everyone is alive, The laundry is done, and dishes are washed-he's a good man, but I gotta laugh:)
At one point I remember saying something about the house, which was met with some grunting and glances. It looked like someone turned the house upside down and shook it, then set it right side up again. For whatever reason, the toy bins were completely empty. Some of the toys were outside on the sidewalk, they were of course all over inside surfaces/floors and even a few in the trash can. I know that taking on a house and 2 boys isn't easy but-why is there milk running down the oven? Has anyone..any one of you bathed? What have you been eating? Who had popcorn for breakfast? Not a single fruit or veggie is included in any of those items. You do realize there is an ant colony in this window sill? The blanket you've covered Simon with-is that the same one he threw up on that I had in the laundry basket? There is a pile of dollar store receipts on the counter and some art made out of Popsicle sticks.
Everyone is alive, The laundry is done, and dishes are washed-he's a good man, but I gotta laugh:)
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