We're Back.

So, it's August ... wait no, it's September.  Good grief this year has flown!  Either way we have entered the last quarter of the year, and sadly this is my first post of 2013.  In my defense, my laptop croaked in March and I have been without one until yesterday ... that's like six months.  As far as where I was the second half of last December and January & February ... well, I have no valid excuse for that.  But all of that is behind us now, and we are up, running, and back in business.

I've had the blogger's itch for months -- wanting to write, but having no access to do such.  When I logged in to see where I had left off,  I was pleasantly surprised to see that I've actually received traffic over the last few months despite my absence. Oddly enough, I seem to be blowing up in Russia.  Of all the places across the globe, I never dreamed I'd be getting significant hits in the land of a frozen tundra. But I'll take it.  Hello, Russia!



There is a lot to catch up on, but doing it all in one post will most likely exhaust you, and give me carpal tunnel.  So, I'll just catch up on the biggest news that has happened since the last post, and all the other news can unfold in posts to come. 

I am a stay at home mom.  I quit my job in December, and my last official day of employment was January 4 of this year.  So it's official ... I am a tried and true, real live, completely exhausted, but extremely happy stay at home mom.  It's fantastic!  A little terrifying at first, but it's amazing the doors that the good Lord will open when we just let go, and let Him do His thing.  And of course, putting in some effort on your end, and praying like there's no tomorrow.  And leaning on friends ... and family.  And crying.  And praying some more.  And crying some more.  And when you're freaking out and wondering what the heck you were thinking by quitting your job, your friends with life experience and life perspective will gently (okay, sometimes firmly) bring you back to reality.  And then crying a little bit more.  And praying more than you're crying.  And then, before you can dry your tears, He has worked everything out better than your brain ever could have imagined. His plans are always better than ours ...  always.

The kicker is, in order to make our financial ends meet, I am nannying children in our home.  Keep in mind, home means apartment -- not house with a back yard where kids can run and burn off energy.  Nope, an 1,100sqft apartment on the second floor with a small screened in porch, that's better equipped for house plants than people.  As of now, besides my own girls, I only have one full time baby I watch, and one part time little boy.  Since last November, I have cared for a total of  eight children -- not all at once.  However, when I first started, I had not just one, not just two, but three babies I was watching.  Yes, babies -- as in under a year old.  And three of them ... one, two, three.  Three babies under a year old.  Diapers ... diapers, everywhere.  Spit up.  Poop.  Baby food.  Screaming.  Bottles.  Toys.  Diaper rash ointment.  First time moms.  I should write a book ... or a blog -- there's a thought. 

By June I was caring for five children (at once), and at one point, for one day only, I had six.  Yes, six.  I'm not insane, I assure you.  Then again, maybe I am.  Surprisingly, on most days, things go pretty smoothly.  I have no time to myself.  Peeing is a luxury.  Peeing alone doesn't happen - ever.  On the plus side, there is almost always one child sleeping.  But for every one child that's asleep, there is another who's hungry, or needs their pants changed, or is screaming for some ungodly reason, or they need their sippy cup refilled, or they're putting something in their mouth that doesn't belong, or they're playing in the sink ... you get the idea.  

The most draining thing is that when all the other kids have gone home, I still don't get a break.  That's motherhood though, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.  Sometimes, the frustration does get to me though ... being at home all day, five days a week, without another adult to talk to can get lonely.  Continuously picking up the same toys multiple times a day seems pointless.  And don't get me started on the number of escapee cheerios I pick up on a daily basis.  Despite the chaos that is my day to day life, I feel extremely blessed.  Being at home with my girls, and having the luxury of experiencing all of little Em's first year has been a blessing.  I wasn't able to do that with G.  Also, being able to watch Miss G grow from a tot of two to a beautiful almost-four-year-old little girl is so rewarding. 

The other day, I heard a fellow stay at home mom talk about how "lucky" she is to be at home with her children.  She may feel "lucky", but I know my dream of being at home is not by luck.  I know, without a doubt, that God put me here.  He gave me my beautiful girls, and worked out every detail in order for me to quit my job so that I could be home to raise them.  Our family is blessed beyond belief.  God's goodness is infinite, and for that, we are eternally grateful.

 

Tumultuous Tuesday.

1:21 AM...that's when it started. But before we go there, let's back up.

Yesterday was Columbus Day - the day that marks the anniversary of Christopher Columbus arriving in the Americas. It wasn't his birthday, as I heard a local DJ say over the radio - just wanted to clear the air on that one. Get it?...clear the air, because it was a DJ that made the mistake? Okay, yeah...moving on. Although most of us did not get the day off of work, it is considered a federal holiday, which in turn means people like postal workers and bankers had a 3-day weekend. Mondays are my bank days. Visiting our local branch has become part of my Monday afternoon routine. I get x-amount of cash out to pay our nanny for the week. Yesterday, that didn't happen. A sign in the window said "Closed in honor of Columbus Day." Crap. Off to the nanny's I go, cashless. Columbus, rhombus.

After picking up my 25-lbs of giggles and wiggles, we headed to the grocery store. My daughter, we'll call her G, has had a runny nose for about 3 days. Yesterday, it went from semi-runny to stuffy. A coworker recently told me about a Vick's Vapor Bath for little ones, so I figured I'd try it out. Long story short, and forty three dollars later, we were checking out with no Vick's Bath. A regular bubble bath it will be.

We're finally home. Dinner is about 20 minutes from being done, and I mention to M (my husband), that G needs a bath. After some hesitation, he says he'll do it after dinner. G wasn't feeling good, and as her mother, I knew the earlier she had a bath, the earlier she could get in bed and hopefully sleep off this runny nose of hers. Dinner was finally done, and of course, she was a fussy, tired little snot factory. I ended up bathing her...annoyed to the point of tears at the husband for not utilizing the 20 minute slot I had suggested earlier, so that we could actually eat dinner together while it was still hot. But in his defense, he did apologize and told me the rest of the night would be better.

Fast forward. It's 10:30, I'm finally in bed...pounding headache and scratchy throat. Pollen is the devil, by the way. By 11:00, the lights are out, and the household had set out to slumber for the night. Then, what seemed like hours later, I'm startled awake by my husband leaning over me and saying, "Hey!"

I jumped and gasped. He continued, "Baby, it's me. I gotta go."

"Go where? On a call?", I asked.

"Yeah."

"Will you be back, you think?"

"Yeah."

My husband is an HVAC Technician and works for a large property management company here in town. He rotates an on-call schedule with three other techs every month. This is his week to be on-call. Someone's bathroom had exploded...or something like that...and off he went, into the darkness, to save the night. I asked him if he'd be back, because I swore it had been hours since we had climbed into bed. I was expecting my alarm to go off any minute. I peek at the alarm through sleepy eyes...it's 1:21. Really? I go check on the munchkin, and climb back into bed. I watch way too much Law & Order, so I couldn't sleep without the husband there. I heard every creak, every thud, every minuscule sound that may or may not have been simply in my head. He finally got home a little after 2:30, and I was able to fall back asleep.

6:04am. My alarm is blaring. 6:53am. Still fighting with the snooze. Crap, I'm late. I scramble to get myself put together. I was annoyed at the world - everything and everyone, including myself. Poor G had a mini-meltdown. She wanted to eat breakfast before we went to the nanny's. She never wants to do that. It's not even part of our morning routine. So, I scoot out the door, leaving her there with M, crying her big brown eyes out. I did get some consolation when M texted me to say she drank a sippy cup full of milk in the car, and was perfectly content when he dropped her off at the nanny's. Thank goodness.

I finally reach work. I park. As I'm walking into my office twenty minutes late, I manage to spill red V8 Fusion on my light gray pants. Miraculously, I'm stain free.

The morning continued pretty uneventful. I worked through numerous reports before lunch, and the afternoon has been pretty painless...with the exception of a growling stomach, a headache, and blogger image uploading drama. My original plan was not to blog about my Tuesday turmoil, but to talk about some great recipe finds. Maybe tomorrow.

29 minutes until the whistle blows. Then it's breakfast for dinner and endless hours of HGTV. Maybe Tuesday's not so bad after all.