Reason #274

I think you could find a couple hundred reasons in this blog to question my mothering skills. The last post had four all by itself. And since my poor mothering skills seem to be the theme for the weekend I thought I'd share reason #274. This video. I don't even know why I was taking a video of Noah in the first place. He wasn't doing anything interesting. I just started the camera, maybe subconsciously knowing he would hit his head on the table. What kind of mother films her kid subconsciously thinking he will hit his head? Furthermore what kind of mother continues to film after her son gets hurt the first time and then posts it on her blog?...the kind who writes her confessions out for the world to read (okay not the world, only for the 3 people who read this blog)...

Does God Second Guess?

Here are four reasons why God is probably re-thinking his decision to entrust me with two of His precious little cherubs today:

4: Today, after carrying Noah on my hip for a few minutes while in a store, I noticed a huge wet spot on my hip after putting him down. His diaper was so soaked that it leaked through his pants and onto my clothes. I could blame it on cheap diapers but God knows that it was because I left him in the same diaper all day long. I completely forgot to change his diaper. 

3: Maia Belle was being super fussy while we were shopping at Old Navy and Target to the point where I almost offered to sell her to the checker lady for a really discounted price. I was so sick of her incessant interruptions to my shopping. She would not keep the binky in her mouth and nothing would shut her up for about an hour. When we got back to the car, I realized the clock said 4:00 p.m.! Oh CRAP! I was supposed to feed her at 3:00 p.m. My poor child was starving. This also explained the excruciating pain in my boobs for the last hour. 

2: My 1 1/2 year old son says and understands the meaning of spicy. What mother in her right mind gives an 18 month old food that may even remotely cause him pain in his mouth?...That would be yours truly. I was craving Chipotle and failed to pack anything for Noah for dinner so I decided to give him the rice, beans, and tomato (from the mild tomato salsa) from my burrito bowl. I knew full well that Chipotle's food is always spicy no matter what you order, but I figured I would just try it on him since I had no other options. Noah proceeded to grab his tongue in an effort to remove it from his mouth so that the burning would stop. With a scrunched face he said "spicy" (with a lisp, which made it cute) and asked for his smoothie. He figured it was cold and would help alleviate the pain. 

1: This morning at the playground Noah made his usual climb to the top of the slide but did not want to go down it because he said it was hot. I knew that his shorts were long enough to protect his legs from the hot plastic and encouraged him to sit down and nudged him down the slide. On his way down his foot got caught and his little body flipped to where he was now going down head first. During the flip his shirt lifted. Thus, his belly was exposed and rubbing against the scorching hot slide and he was stuck because skin does not slide well on plastic. He let out an agonizing scream and I rushed down the ladder to rescue him from the burning while praying that no one would come out of their houses and call CPS on me. I pulled him off the slide and kissed his red hot belly. Thank God that my Noah thinks a kiss fixes everything. If he would have kept screaming like that, I would have had to make a run for it.

Once again, I will refer you to  my letter to CPS in case you are contemplating calling them. God, I promise to try to do better tomorrow. Maybe I will only have 3 reasons instead of 4. 

The Most Inspiring Blog I've Ever Read

This post is another one of those out of place posts that doesn't really fit with the the usual type of writing I do on this blog but I had to post it...About 1 month ago I was blog surfing and through a friend's blog found this blog called Bring the Rain. I clicked on the blog and decided to go to the very first post instead of the most recent one because the side bar encouraged me to do so. As I began to read, I became immediately engulfed in Angie's story. It took me a whole month to read through all of her posts from the beginning until now not because of time, but because my heart needed a break often. Her story made me ache for her and I found myself often reading blurred words through tear-filled eyes. I think the most amazing thing about Angie, is her faith in Christ. She is genuine and transparent with her feelings, yet she has an unwavering faith in Christ and trusts Him with her whole heart. Her blog has challenged me and inspired me in a way that I have never been challenged or inspired before. 

Fun Pictures of My Babies

Yesssss! I love it when I escape from mom and she doesn't have a chance to take off my clothes and shoes off before I get soaked! 

Heyyyy, the water disappeared. Where'd it go?

I know you're in there...why won't you come out?

I am so cute! 

Great! Now people will really think I am a boy! Thanks Dad. 

I must hold on to my toys even when I sleep or else my big brother will steal them. Nobody takes my beads! 

I am The Biggest Loser

I really look forward to Tuesday evenings now that "The Biggest Loser" started back up. Every Tuesday evening from the time the season starts until it finishes, Ricky and I settle in front of the T.V. with our fresh baked chocolate chip cookies and a glass of whole milk with one ice cube for me and watch the overweight people bust their butts to lose weight. Mid-way through the show, I feel as big as the people on T.V. and sick from eating one too many cookies. Then, I get motivated by the barely breathing profusely sweating contestants, Bob's excessive yelling, and Jillian's mean faces and use of her trainees as chairs. I down one last cookie and chug the last of my milk and  decide to make a lifestyle change the next day. By the time the Last Chance Workout is through, I have made plans to wake up an hour early the next morning to go running and I have mentally noted all of the bad food in my refrigerator and pantry that needs to be thrown away. All of the little fitness tips that they've given throughout the show have been written down and posted on my refrigerator. By the time the show has ended, I am pumped and ready to lose 7 pounds the next day. I do a few sit-ups and head off to bed and dream about how great I am going to feel after I start my new diet and exercise plan....

  When 5:00 a.m. rolls around on Wednesday morning, I turn off the alarm, roll over, and go back to sleep. I have a cookie hangover...I will start my new lifestyle next Wednesday...It's a vicious cycle. 

Trash and Laundry

When Ricky and I first got married, I established the rule that taking out the trash is his job. It is an unpleasant smelly, heavy, messy job, therefore girls should not be required to do that. I deemed it unladylike and off limits for me. However, I failed to mention that there are no chores off-limits for boys and it came back to bite me in the butt yesterday night...

Ricky: Noah has no clean clothes. I had to pull out a dirty shirt for him to wear today. I don't think his clothes have been washed in like three weeks. 

Me: You could throw his clothes in the wash ya know? It's not that difficult! 

Ricky: What?! I'm not a girl!

Me: (gasp) You don't have to be a girl to do laundry. (pause) You chauvinistic pig! (for emphasis)

Ricky: You don't have to be a  guy to take out the trash... you chauvinistic pig! 

Me: shoot, shoot, shoot...I've got nothing...Touche, my dear.

I hate it when that happens! 

Xtreme One-Year- Old

I knew what I was getting myself into when I married my sweetheart 3 years ago but today it really slapped me in the face. I had 6 1/2 years of dating to really decide if I was prepared to deal with the consequences of marrying Ricky Murray. He was Godly, charming, handsome, respectful, and just plain perfect. You may ask what the heck I had to prepare myself for...well...how do I put this...he's kind of crazy... I think it is also known as extreme. He seems to love the thought of almost dying while taking part in extreme sports.  If the activity or sport does not include a high risk of dying or sustaining a paralyzing injury, then my Ricky wants no part in it. He's torn his ACL and Meniscus while back flipping on his wakeboard, he's gone sliding down a hill after falling off his dirt bike, he's fallen off a huge cliff while repelling, and he's been air lifted off a mountain after attempting a huge jump snow boarding...this whole thing has a point, so stay with me! These activities are his passion and joy. After a day on his dirt bike or on his boat on the lake, he is invigorated and excited about life and this is who I fell in love with. The hard part is that when I chose to marry him, I knew that he would want to share these passions with his kids one day and I would have to be okay with that. I took the plunge, married him, and now we have kids. And look at what has already started...my son is only 18 months old. I know that I am in for a lot of emergency room trips...God help me!