Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Confession: Sometimes I Hate My Husband

Sometimes I hate my husband. Sometimes I hate that I'm a woman, the mommy, the one who can never check out.

To lay out the foundation of our relationship and this situation, you must know I am wholeheartedly 100% a feminist. I don't believe in gender roles. I know, I know, I look like Suzy-fucking-homemaker with her bundle of four small children. But I'm choosing to be home because that's where my heart is. I'm not at home because I believe women, all women, are suppose to be home, baking cookies, and knitting sweaters.

If I worked outside of the home, the chores would be split right in half just like they were before we had children and I stopped getting paid for my hard work. 

We've devised these guidelines about money, responsibilities, and work. I've agreed to be responsible of all of the household chores and the vast majority of the child-rearing in exchange to him working between 55 - 70 hours a week.
I've agreed to this household plan because his overtime pay beats any wage that I could make while working around his work schedule. I look at his overtime pay as the amount I would be making but yet, still have the blessing of a flexible schedule and the time to spend together as a family.

We have this plan and it works 95% of the time. Jarod has his realm of work at work and I have my own at home. I have a schedule, a plan, a way of doing things. I'm so use to doing things at home by myself and he's so use to not doing much at home. But then, my consecutive nights of little sleep start getting to me, the kids get exceptionally whiny, his overtime hours get shortened, and he comes home to the place he's accustom to not doing much of anything and he sits on the couch.

Source: Unknown
He says he's tired. Uhh, so am I.

He says he's excited his day off is tomorrow and I'm confused of this magical world of which he speaks. Where is "Day Off?" Is it far? How do I get there?

And then I hate him. I resent him for sitting down while I run around like a chicken with my head cut off. The kids are use to me doing everything for them, too. They're use to their dad not being home so they ask me for every little thing. I can be cooking dinner with my right hand, telephone wedged between my tilted head and shoulder while my left hand is pulling a child out of a fire, and then have another child ask me for new pants because they "pee in undeewear," all the while the parent is right there, sitting on the couch, laughing at some funny Vine.

 And then, I hate him even more.


Of course, I get nothing because men are terrible at doing anything else than the one task they're currently engaged in.


If I hadn't been married to this man for almost 9 years I would already be so pissed and could have sworn I was being ignored.


He slowly looks up, "Did you say something?"

Duh, I'm fucking dying over here, is what I really want to say but I usually go with a casual, "Yes, can you . . ."

Sometimes I hate how every big, small, minor detail: bills, emails, 3 meals a day (everrryday, whhhy??), cleaning, homeschooling, everything, and anything, falls on me. It doesn't seem like much but it all adds up.

I hate how I drink coffee at 10pm to get some "me" time in the day. I hate how he effortlessly states he needs time for himself to workout, to take a shower, to eat; I have no idea how to do that. I know how to take care of everyone else but me.

Sometimes I wish being "selfish" and simply, just taking care of myself wasn't such a foreign trait. Sometimes I wish I was a man because sometimes, being a woman is so damn exhausting.

Most of the time, I really, really like him, but sometimes, sometimes I hate my husband.
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Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Kids Are Hard, My Driving Disability, And Our Posse

When you have one kids you quickly realize doing anything and everything is hard. Things that used to be normal everyday things seem to take enormous mental agility and strength.

Going to the bathroom means sprinting and locking it before a strange, small person joins you, stares, and fills the silence with awkward, small talk.

"You poop?" they enthusiastically ask as they try to take a gander in the mesmerizing white bowl you're sitting on. You engage in this degrading conversation after thinking, how in the world did my life come to this?, because the only thing better than retaining the small amount of self-respect for yourself is the thought of never changing their diapers again.

Even driving becomes the hardest task in the world; so hard that you begin making up weird-ass driving disabilities. It is a known fact in our family that mommy cannot drive without complete silence.

"Okay, Mommy needs to focus now," is a phrase they've come to know as a demand for their complete silence and the blaring of the radio to muffle out any remaining sounds of their existence. It's not lost on me that one day they're going to recall this time in their lives and slowly come to the hard realization that I'm just a big, fat liar.

Please tell I'm not alone and you have lies disabilities you tell your kids.

Living life with kids, especially small kids, is hard. Doing anything out of the normal exhausts me but I want them to have childhood memories they love. I want to have family traditions we share and so, on Sunday (instead of revelling in nap time) we rented Monsters University, threw cookies in the oven, popcorn in the microwave, and, of course, coffee in the pot.

The DVD in the living room is broken, of course. Everything is slowly, but surely, breaking. Yay! So everyone "snuggled" (I was "comfortably" laying against the hard, cold wall) on our bed and me and my posse made a memory.

this is my happy. they are my world.
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Monday, November 11, 2013

Confession: The Real Reason I Take Selfies

I love me some selfies and I don't understand why anyone wouldn't like them.

Generally, in real-life (you know, the thing opposite of what you're looking at right now) we look at people's faces because that's how we're suppose to communicate with people, it's how we scope someone's emotions, and gauge what they're really thinking. 

I think you can give me that argument, right? Faces are pretty damn great.

But, selfies (insert eyes rolling) are the devil; they're a self-involved public pictorial statement from a camera-raping son-of-a-bitch begging the reassurance to the ever-annoying, "am I pretty? I'm so pretty, right?! Right??"

As a selfie-loving mom of four who's had every inch of her body stretch, sag, and most definitely, not bounce back (stilllll waiting for that one), I have to say, "bahahhahhha." Us moms, with our three-day unwashed hair, unshaven legs, dark-circled eyes, know the hell motherhood has on our looks and we, who, stupidly lovingly sacrifice ourselves again and again to create fucking life could give a damn if you think we're pretty.

Ohh, we know we used to be pretty; How do you think we snagged ourselves a man? Our brains?? (LOL, pleeease) and once a week month year we use magic to make ourselves look, not pretty but like regular, normal people.
I don't strive for pretty anymore. I strive to look average. I strive to look like I got some sleep last night.

And when I cleverly think I can fool you - SHAZAM!!!! - I take a fucking selfie.

Took a shower today. Selfie.

Brushed my teeth. Selfie.

Used magic!?! Put on makeup!?!


Are you a selfie-lover? Or a selfie-hater?

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Friday, November 8, 2013

The Difficulties of Being Pretty

It's really hard and annoying to be pretty. Trust me, I know this for a fact.

Aiden and Tristen have recently started vying for my attention with the kind of praise any 11-year-old girl would kill for. I am told I am pretty allllll the time. alllllllll day long. luuucky me.

I'm sure you're thinking, "how sweet! How friggin' adorable!" because that's what I thought, too.

That is until Tristen became a complimenting terrorist stopping at nothing to inform me of my "prettiness."


"Just a second, Tris," I beg while rocking a cranky baby on one hip while attempting to open a box of crackers for the other terrorist in our house, our daughter, Ali. On a side note, anyone who says girls are easier has never met my daughter. She's the hardest, most demanding, and loudest child we have I have ever met. Btw, she's, also, for sale.


The decibel level in his cries wrench into my compassionate mommy soul.

Some thing's wrong! Some thing's terribly wrong!! I think to myself as his face scrunches into painful anguish and a second thought crosses my mind, I had too many kids too close together and I suck at taking care of them, as my three youngest cry like the grim reaper is swiftly approaching their short, miserable lives. 

I am a shitty mom, flushes over my greasy unwashed hair, down my husband's stained shirt because my own clothes remind me of that foreign body that use to be mine, all the way down to the pathetic chipped nail polish on my toes.

"What's wrong, Tristen!?" I plead. I hope my concern and meager effort can level out my inadequacies.

His anguish instantly switches to pure joy as his eyes beam of pure, incandescent love and his two favorite words in the entire world happily bounce out of his upturned mouth, "you're pretty."

"Thanks, Trissy," is what comes out of my mouth when I really want to just give him a hard-cold stare of sarcastic death and say, "are you fucking kidding me?!" because my kid is a sweetheart and I'm just an exhausted bitch that writes a blog about the difficulties of being pretty.
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Thursday, November 7, 2013

Thankful For My Husband

There's a thing on Facebook where a few of my fellow Facebook friends post something they're thankful for every day in the month of November because November is the month of America's Thanksgiving and heck, why not be thankful? I think taking a minute to embrace what's positive in your life is always a great thing, but why stop at just one month?

So, I'm just going to write about something I'm thankful for whenever the idea fancies, and the idea fancies now.

I am thankful for my husband. 
Sure, everyone always says their husband is the greatest and they love them so much. Blah. Blah. Blah. Nothing original here (I know) but can I just say, I really, really love that man. I am so incredibly thankful for him.
We usually are given two parents who root for us, love us unconditional, and want what's best for us, but I think we're so lucky when we find someone else who loves us like a parent can love a child.

That sounds really creepy, but bare with me.

I am enameled at how much that man loves me. Aside from my parents, no one has ever loved me so unconditionally. No one has ever rooted so strongly for me to succeed. No one has ever stood by me through the thickness of life and the painful thinness of despair.
I can't count the number of times he's held me for hours, forgoing sleep (and if you are a woman with a man, you know how big of a sacrifice that is), because my heart was so broken the only mending band aid was a bleeding, out pour of tears.

I have never been a perfect woman (shocking, I know) and his devotion has never wavered. He's stood by my side when my depression was so low I didn't want to live. He's been right here when my, respective astrological sun and moon signs of Gemini and Gemini, personality would drive the most centered, Zen-monk fuuuuck. iiiiing bonkers. He's stayed right next to me when we were teenagers and I, most definitely, acted like a teenager.

I am thankful that staying by my side has been the absolute minimum of his love. I am so incredibly thankful that I know a love so strong that I compare it to a love of a parent's and risk sounding like a weirdo with daddy issues.

No, I don't call my husband, "daddy," and no, I swear, I don't have daddy issues.

This is getting really weird so I'm going to end it here: I am thankful I know him and his love.

I am thankful for my husband.

What are you thankful for?

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Wednesday, November 6, 2013

We Only Have About Ten Halloweens

The best thing about Halloween is how much fun it is for little kids. I love all of October, in general. I love how much the kids love going to the pumpkin patch, making Jack-O-Lanterns, and of course, going trick-or-treating. It's exciting how excited and happy doing these simple things make them. Hell, if knocking on people's doors and asking for candy made me as happy as it made them, I would do it every day. 

As we were driving to my mom's house on Halloween it hit me that in 18 years we will no longer have children to dress in costumes, trick-or-treaters to take trick-or-treating, scary movies or haunted houses to go to. Our children will be adults and the chaos and struggle (because it truly is) to get everyone dressed, out the door, decently well-rested, and temporarily happy will no longer fill our time. We will have the time we so desperately yearn for. Jarod and I will have the freedom of idle hands.

There are seasons in life and I look forward to each one. I'm excited to be a grandma. I'm excited to cuddle with my husband again without the anxiousness of having to do something else, something that needs to be done: laundry, dishes, dinner, emails. But I, also, want to be present. Present in the now; present in this utterly exhausting and mildly insane season of now because soon, the leaves of fall will rustle away and be replaced with the snow of winter, all I will have left are these memories.

And so, I made Jarod and I into zombies. Yay for playing with makeup and only spending under $5 for both our costumes! The older boys were both red Power Rangers, Ali was a princess, and baby Carsen was handed-down the puppy dog costume each of my kids have worn for one Halloween or another. 

We hit every house with Halloween decorations or a porch light on, the kids held their baskets out while saying "trick-or-treat," and with the excitement of the night, they forgot to say, "thank you" more than half of the time. Jarod and I took turns running Ali to each house the older kids ran to. We constantly did head-counts for our kids to make sure nobody was left behind and reminded them they needed to walk on the sidewalk. It was tiring and exhausting . . . 

and one of my absolute favorite days ever.

Later, I watched Grey's Anatomy and it was said that we, parents, only get about ten Halloweens with our kids before they want nothing to do with and they'd rather hang out with their friends. And it struck me, I'm going to have much less years than I originally thought, less years than I want, less years of having this whole gang together on this day.

My kids are going to grow up and that's okay because that's what kids are suppose to do, but realizing how sacred and rare a day like this was made Halloween 2013 even more special. I'm forever thankful I will always have these memories, pictures, and this video:

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Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Aiden Says . . .

I've always thought of Aiden as an old-soul; he's more mature than his age would suggest, extremely considerate, kind, gentle, and there's more love in that little body than he could ever contain. I have an inkling that he's going to get married as fast as he can find someone to share a life with. I'd bet money he's going to be the first one of my kids to settle down so it doesn't surprise me that we had this completely random conversation:

Aiden: "Why do you want to marry me?"

Me: "I don't want to marry you."

Aiden: "Well, then who am I going to marry?"

Me: "You don't need to worry about that now. One day you'll fall in love and get married. One day you'll find a nice girl."

Aiden: "Like you!?!"

I'm pretty sure five-year-olds don't normally talk about marriage - or do they? What do you think? Any experience with young kids ready to put a ring on it?
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Monday, November 4, 2013

Woman Like You

Jarod's not a man of many words. He doesn't live life with big, sweeping gestures nor will he ever command a huge, elaborate orchestrated plan to show his love for me. I guess, we're both a little old, jaded, and unromantic in most ways. I've told him to never get me flowers because they always die later anyways and I'm getting more and more appalled that a hard stock paper with some art and words can cost close to $10 these days.

I'm the "fat" girl who thinks a surprise greasy bag of Dicks burger, fries, and strawberries shake will always, always beat out a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. Even with all my reservations of conventional "romantic" gestures, I'm still a girl and sometimes I need a little romance in my life.

Awhile ago, Jarod and I laid in bed and he casually remarked he was listening to a song on his way home and it reminded him of me. He proceeded to find this song on his phone and play this for me . . .

. . . and I'm still glowing. Every time I hear this song I feel genuinely blessed. I'm lucky to have a man like him.

P.S. Men: find a song for your girl, tell her about it, and you'll score points every time she hears it!

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Friday, November 1, 2013

In A Really Good Groove

I finally feel like I've finally got the hang out of this whole four kids thing. Carsen's 7 1/2 months old now and it's been a few months since he joined his siblings in that wonderful, joyous thing called "go the F to sleep" "sleeping through the night." I still get less sleep than ever but something happened to me that I'm quite certain happens in all busy momma's lives, we realize two things. 1) the kids will NEVER, EVER leave. I've come to grips with them being adults and still asking us for things, for food, for money; I'm currently, working on the best way to say, "no" without flat-out laughing in their faces and 2) we truly forget what a "well-rested night of sleep" means, well, except for when we look over at our husbands who are peacefully sleeping through a bad dream, a kid peeing in their bed, and the 958th water break before the kid goes the F to sleep. So, we get a solid 5 hours of broken sleep and we wake up ready to go, kind of.

I'm happy we're homeschooling and feel fortunate to be able to do so but sometimes, sometimes I just want to scream; not at anyone particularly, I just want the kids to stop crying/ screaming/ yelling/ breaking/ you can add anything "bad" in here really because my kids have done and/ or will do it. I want to scream to simply release all the pent-up stress I feel inside. I have about a 10 day stretch before I really feel like I've hit my max and I feel like I'm edging the fine line of insanity.
Since Carsen is our last baby and a full-on crawler, we're at the point that a lot of our baby stuff can finally leave our home and I have no reservations about it, whatsoever. I have absolute no inklings for another baby, which after having baby fever every five minutes for the last few years, it's a nice, foreign feeling. That desire for another baby is now replaced with the desire for a strong, yet deliciously fruity cocktail and a legit "night of sleep" without the worry and guilt of not doing something else.

One of the best things that keep me from full-on losing my mind is I know with absolute certainty that years from now I will miss my babies' precious innocence and these days of absolute chaos. I try so hard to embrace this period in our lives and to be fully present in the time I spend with my children. The unfortunate part is they can be crazy, lunatics most of the time sometimes.

Overall, I think my level of sanity is questionable because of my lack of sleep; therefore, I'm loving life and feel like we're finally in a really good groove.

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Monday, October 21, 2013

Why We Decided to Homeschool

When Aiden was three the idea of homeschooling crossed my mind, I did a lot of personal research on it and saw how beneficial it could be, tossed the idea around with my husband, and chalked up the idea to something we would address when we needed to. Fast forward to about two years later, with four children aged five years and younger the idea of homeschooling sounded absolutely miserable.

People often ask me how I "do it," how I handle four children, and I tell them with complete honesty, "I have no idea; I don't get much sleep." Therefore, how in the world would I even find the time to take on the tremendous responsibility of teaching my child his three R's? And if I'm being completely honest, being home watching the kids by myself, more often than not, I counted the days down when my load would get a little easier and Aiden would be enrolled in Kindergarten.

Prior to enrolling in Kindergarten, Aiden had never been enrolled in a formal school setting. I took him to a "preschool playtime" for a little bit but there was never any true focus on learning. So I took it upon myself to teach him how to count, letters, phonics, and basic math; I didn't want him to be behind because we couldn't afford to put him into preschool. 

However, he picked up everything I taught him so fast that it blew my mind. His ability to retain the information so quickly curtailed my guilt over not having the energy and "time" to teach him every single day. It even got to the point that I purposeful stopped teaching him new things because I figured he needed to learn something in Kindergarten so we stopped, just short of learning to read.

September rolled around, we bought him a Mario lunch box, new crayons, and new clothes, and we excitedly took him to his first day of school. He loved school, met his first "love" (side note: the adorableness of this subject deserves it's own blog post so more on that later :) made new friends, and had gym, library days, and music class.

Jarod and I settled into a new routine with our new elementary-student: homework and reading shuffled around the daily grind that is parenthood. I attended curriculum night and became more disappointed each week when I saw none of the work was challenging Aiden. His class was learning to count to 10 and he knows how to count to 100. They're learning how to write the numbers one to ten while he's adding and subtracting like a pro. They're learning their letters and he's beginning the early stages of reading. He more than likely would be reading now if I hadn't decided he "needed" to save some learning for Kindergarten.
I hated how he was spending almost 7 hours at school doing "review" work and wasn't learning anything new. Therefore, in addition to his assigned homework and reading, I would spend almost an hour every night teaching him something new. I wanted and want him to be challenged and grow academically. The unfortunate repercussion of the public school system and almost guaranteed 1 teacher: 25 children ratio is the curriculum will most definitely be geared towards the average student. Children below the average usually fall through the cracks and stay behind; whereas, the children above average fail to be challenged and reach their true potential.

I'm not flat-out criticizing our public school system. Most people find that it works great for their child and their family. It's definitely an option we may readdress later in the kids' academic careers. However, I think it's safe to say everybody would agree smaller classrooms would be beneficial to teachers and students; therefore, I fail to see how a one-on-one approach to teaching could be anything but spectacular. I know exactly what he's struggling on and we can afford to spend as long as necessary on whatever it is we're working on.

Another advantage to homeschooling is we usually cover everything we need to that day in about 2-3 hours and we have the flexibility to adjust our schedule to outside activities. When Aiden was attending public school, he was also taking swimming lessons and playing soccer on a team and the schedule was so hectic, I felt like I rarely saw him.

I, also, felt like I didn't know him as much. I would ask him about his day and receive one-word responses and would often be told he "couldn't remember" when I asked about his day. I would get bits and pieces of his day when they would come to him but it just wasn't the same as when I saw him all the time. I completely and utterly missed him. I would peek at the school calendar to see when the next "no school" day would be so I could more time with him as we have a large, amazing, and very involved extended family that includes 9 grandchildren as well as wonderful friends, some of whom have children themselves; thus, our weekends are almost always already spoken for.

On that note, I think the biggest concern I've received, and most homeschoolers receive, is the case of socialization. To that, I'd like to ask what one classifies as "socialization." Is socialization synonymous and interchangeable with the "typical school environment" of simply placing a decently large number of children in a room so much so that supervision is questionable and children are then governed to teach one another how to behave and how to "fit in"? 

I disagree that socialization can only include same-age peers. Life encounters interactions with people of various ages; therefore, wouldn't "socialization" would be most beneficial if it imitated real-life? Aiden, as well as my other children, regardless of which school system they are enrolled in will be involved in sports and/or other activities. It will always be our intent to place Aiden in natural social settings with his peers but I don't think it's necessary to do so for 7 hours a day to be "socialized."

The biggest advantage for us for homeschooling is time. I get so much time with Aiden these days; unfortunately, it took a good four weeks of not having him around as often for me to realize how lucky I truly am to be right there watching him grow-up before my very eyes. We are free to write our own schedule because we don't need to work around the confines of a school's schedule and I get to teach them values, morals, ideas that are important to our family, and a curriculum that works on our pace.

He has told me he likes being homeschooled more than going to "real" school, I'm excited at the progress he's making academically, and I'm really, really enjoying the time we're fortunate to have with one another.

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Vlogtober the 1st

I've decided I don't record the kids enough and want to get into the habit of filming them more so I'm going to do Vlogtober - one video every day in the month of October. Here's the first:

Monday, September 30, 2013

Time Has A Funny Way

In so many ways, Carsen reminds me of baby Aiden. The way they smile at any person that simply glances their way. The way their emotions run from exuberant joy to a face full of tears. The kindness that exudes from them. I attribute a lot of their similarities to the fact they're both Pisces.

When the house is quiet, the older kids are in their rooms, and Carsen's resting in my arms, it feels as if time has warped me back to that moment in my life when Jarod spent almost all day at work while I learned how to be a mother for the first time.

And then as brief as that feeling comes, it leaves me when my five-year-old Aiden comes out of his room to ask me to change the batteries in his Wii remote.

Time and my mind play these games with me for I'm certain those moments are truly how swift time travels.

One moment my whole world filled completely in my arms and now he's playing with three other little ones that accompany my heart.


Time has a funny way of sneaking past me. I'm certain you came out of my belly about 2 weeks ago and miraculously, your brothers and sister just showed up out of the blue. And now, (sigh) now you're starting school. This is such an exciting and amazing milestone in your life. I'm so happy that I'm here to share this experience with you. I'm certain that the next five years will fly by just as fast as the first but I'm so excited to meet ten-year-old you and the rest of "you" that only the future will bring. I love you more than you will ever know. You're amazing, my sweet boy!

Forever and Ever,

Saturday, September 7, 2013

Life Lessons, Swim Lessons

The older boys started swimming lessons a few weeks ago and Tristen was quite certain we brought him there to die. He screamed and cried the. whole. time.

I liked asking him if he had fun because his face would quickly morph to a stern pout as he quickly replied with a single, "no." It was actually really adorable annnd I really just like messing with my kids.

At about halfway through the second session I asked the instructor if she thought it would help if I went into the lobby, where I would still be able to see him but wouldn't be just a few feet away having to reassure him over his extremely loud and pitiful pleads of, "mommy! mommmmy, mommmy!!" to get him the hell out of the water.

I walked away and watched from the window separating me from him and listened to the howls of his screaming from about 50 feet away as I realized this was just the first of many in which I would have to step aside, out of arms reach, in order to do what's best for him.

He's only three years old but as he grows into a child, a teenager, and a (ahem) man (whaatt?!), I know I'm going to have to step aside more and more. It's an unfortunate effect of motherhood because it goes against the grain of our love for them. There's such a large part of me that wants to pick that little boy of mine up into my arms and say, "it's okay, fuck this water," but I know I can't.

The fact is children grow up to be adults, no matter how hard we try to slow down the process, and the overall goal should be to raise them to be independent, responsible, compassionate, and critically-thinking adults that "do good" in this world.

Thus, swimming lessons wasn't just about swimming lessons that day. Yes, I'd love for him (and my other children) to be excellent swimmers (because it's a skill that could save their lives one day) but if Tristen decides, as an adult, to never step foot in a pool or any body of water, for that matter, I could care less.

But from now until the end of his life, I hope he learns and realizes even if something is beyond terrifying and painfully hard that he's going to be okay. I hope he builds his confidence so high that nothing can shatter it.

The screaming and absolute disdain for water continued until about the third session when he finally relaxed. I think he finally realized he's probably going to live past the age of three. These days when I ask him if had fun after his swimming lessons, his little face brightens as he smiles a sweet little, "yes."

Along with building his confidence and knowledge that no matter what, he's going to be just fine, I, also, want him to know that no matter how far away I am I will always be thinking about him, hoping for the best, and forever loving that sweet, little boy of mine.

Monday, August 26, 2013

Journals, Busy Bees, and Debt

I'm going to try to write more often on here and make it more of a journal so let's all forget about the fact that I have a college degree in English and excuse all of those grammatical mistakes and misspelled words that I promise I'm going to make because, fuuuck, I'm tired and 2) grammar: shit, ain't nobody got time for that.

Jarod and I are back on track with our debt-free journey. He's gonna be working 12's to make the money, money, money and I'm going to raise, feed, bathe, drive, clean after, etc. those little people running around in our house, pretty much, by myself. I feel a bit like a single mom that magically has money appear in my bank account. The money thing is a plus but the lack of the hubs - not-so-much.

Aiden starts Kindergarten, another session of swimming lessons, and soccer all in the same week. I'm scared.

I'm probably spreading myself too thin. I'm not sure where I'm even going to find the time to pee, especially since I already don't have time for that as is. But I have an idea of what I want for my kids and how I want to parent so dammit, I'm going to try.

We got a puppy, named Bella, because I don't feel like I have enough responsibility (sarcasm). But really, she's amazing and we're so in love. I'll explain more about her in a different post that includes: dogs, pregnancy, and depression. Trust me they're all related.

The kids are crazy and great.

The hubs is amazing and never fails to amaze me with his awesomeness.

I'm so grateful me and him are on the same page with our finances and I'm really excited to get some ish paid off! We have a 4-5 year plan to getting out of debt and into a house (through the recommended course of Dave Ramsey). If you haven't heard of him, look him up. Best financial advice we have ever received and I'm so thankful we came across his message.

There's so many sacrifices we're going to be making in the next few years (12 hour shifts at work for him and 12 hour shifts at home with the kids for me: we decided mine is worse) that will determine our quality of life for the remainder of our lives.

I always feel stupid and cheesy for saying this but really though, yay for financial freedom!!

Yep, still feel stupid.

Byyyye! (grace face)

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

All Of Our Debt: Take Two

Just wanted to do a quick update to refer back to. Progress is slow going but it's going! The goal is to have everything all paid off by June of 2015 but sooner is, of course, better! I'm proud of us for not touching a single credit card and literally if we don't have the cash for it, we can't afford it so that's been our motto. The ultimate goal is to live a life free from debt but the process is still frustrating, nonetheless. I wish we were already there but seriously, how great is it that we've paid over $15,000.00 in debt?! Yay us!

I love you, Jarod Miller. I'm thankful we're on the same page. Now time to get these bitches paid off.


Jj’s School Loan (Group B):                 $190.59  PAID OFF!!
Jj’s School Loan (Group D):                $370.77   PAID OFF!!
Jj’s School Loan (Group A):                $1542.69   PAID OFF!!
Credit Loan:                                        $2216.76   PAID OFF!!
Jj’s School Loan (Group H):                $2478.0     PAID OFF!!
Jj’s School Loan (Group E):                 $2144.05
Kj’s School Loan #1:                            $2291.85
Jj’s School Loan (Group G):                $2478.61
Jj’s School Loan (Group C):                $2632.62
Kj’s School Loan #2.1                          $3135.17
Kj’s School Loan #2.2                          $3430.58
Jj’s School Loan (Group F):                 $3912.59
Kj’s School Loan #3:                            $6183.76
Honda Pilot Car Loan:                          $9510.04

STARTING DEBT (Oct. 2011):             $51792.70

DEBT PAID OFF:                                $15583.47

FINAL DEBT:                                      $35719.27

Saturday, July 27, 2013

Falling Into Place: Our Marriage

This November, Jarod and I will be celebrating our nine-year-wedding anniversary. Our almost nine years of marriage-hood has turned two young naive kids into relationship-veterans that run together like a well-oiled machine. 

He understands my chaotic nature that yearns for solitude and quiet but equally, craves a life full of family (hello, four kids) and close friends and runs at about 100 miles an hour on a daily (hello, four kids  . . . in five years). I understand his obsessive need for schedules, calendars, and cleanliness and his conflicting ambitions that force him to behave in the exact opposite of what he says he wants. In order words, we're both insane and he let's me do my thing and I let him do his, with, of course, the greatest of sympathies to how fucked up we really are.

"Why are you doing that then!? You did that to yourself," has kindly been replaced with "I'm sorry, babe. Tell me all about it."

Jarod and I have been madly in love with one another from the beginning but loving each other has been hard when age, experience, and maturity don't quite equal the weight of a commitment we made to one other. I like to say a big part of why Jarod and I rarely fight anymore is because we've fought about every damn thing under the sun. Go ahead, name anything.

. . .

Yep, in '08 we had a huge fight about that very thing; we were dumb and embarrassing, even to ourselves.

These days we're so on cue to what the other person is going to say, do, and/or react that nothing's really a surprise anymore. God, we sound old, married, and boring and to that I say, "yes, yes, and helllll no." We're creeping closer to 30 so yah, we're getting old and married, God, we're so damn married it's not even funny. But boring, H-to-the-no, guuurlfriend.

I'm so thankful I married my best friend. He can make me laugh like no other and is just so dang fun to be around. Sometimes I get out of the house to get away from the kids (and give my mind a break!) but him, no, if I could I would take that man with me everywhere.

I've already decided I get to die first and he should go in less than 24 hours of me. I've really grown up with him (hello, getting married at 18 0_o ) and if we're lucky, we'll get to share our great-grandchildren's birthdays together so I'm really not feeling the whole spending life-after-death without him. He once told me, a complete and utter ghostaphobic (I'mmm pretty sure I made up that word and there's actually a legit word for that but that's beside the point, so he once told me) if he dies first that he's going to haunt me and I told him, "Fine but you better not move shit around!!" 

We were dead-serious (ha) when we were having that conversation but the dumb part is he actually thinks there's a chance he might go first. Pfff.

This post started off about our lives falling into place and took a sharp, left turn into Gag-Fest Way about how much I love my husband. I do but even I think I need to throw up. I'll leave how the rest of our lives feels like it's fallen into place in another post. Until then.