Wordless Wednesday: What Crawling Looks Like

Yes, those work papers were organized 20 seconds ago....

Mommy, why do you work?

First of all, let's twist that knife around a little more, love.

That was my initial reaction when Girlie asked me why I work.

But then I took a deep breath and asked her, "What do you mean?"

"Why do you have to work?"

That question is easy to answer.  To pay the bills.  Because the fun things we like to do as a family cost money.  And because the not so fun things cost money.

But there is more to it than that.  Not a working mom versus stay at home mom rant.  That's been done by others, and quite frankly, I don't have time for that drama.

I work for many reasons.

There is so much I wanted to tell her:

I work so that we can do fun things.

But I also work for myself. I work because it makes me happy even when it stresses me out.  As much as I love you and your brother and your sisters, I need something that is solely mine.  For me, that solely mine is work.   

I work because, even if our family didn't need my income to survive, I would still want to work.  Yes, that is my dirty little secret -- and sometimes it kills me that it has to be a dirty little secret.  But it's my decision -- it's how I want to keep my brain active, my skills sharp, my soul whole.  

I work because eventually you are going to grow up.  Raising you is the best job I could ever have.  But, as much as this breaks my heart, eventually you will leave and start a life of your own and you will need me less.  And I will need something for me.  

And yes, a part of me works because, Girlie, you ask me that question -- why do you work?  As if not working is somehow better than working or working is better than not working.  I've done both, my love.  I know the benefits and joys of both.  I know the stress and sadness of both.  And I can say that, for me, I am a happier mommy because I work.  I know that is not true of everyone.  But it's true for me.

I pay attention intensely because I know that I have to make the most of every minute.  I also know that working from home means that sometimes the TV is on more often than I like.  And that sometimes I let a call slide to voicemail because I'm busy dancing the Hot Dog Dance with you guys.

I know that I am extremely fortunate to get get to work from home so that I can be with you -- that many, many other mommies are not so lucky.  And I know that if I had to leave you every day to go into a place of business, I probably wouldn't work.  Getting to work from home give me the best (and worst, to be perfectly honest) of both worlds.  I hope that one day you realize that, long after you and your brother and sisters have settled for the night, I'm awake in the quiet house, pounding away at my keyboard, so that I can take you to the park the next day.  And I hope you know that I glow with contentment when I ask at dinner "What was your favorite part of today?" And you and your brother and sisters say "Playing with you."


I know that my working is not an easy path for our family.  I know that sometimes you feel like I don't have time for you.  But I want you to know, my love, that, first and foremost, I work for our family.

When you want to cry sad tears....

Yesterday was God awful.

So many things went wrong:

It started with a work meeting that should have been 30 minutes -- it stretched into 90 minutes and added an extra 4 hours on to my day.

I didn't have a sitter come because I thought I wouldn't need one.

We have ants. 

Girlie zipped herself INTO a body pillowcase.  And she was thrashing around so much, I couldn't unzip it.  So I had to cut her out of it. 

I cringe when I think about how much screen time Boyo got yesterday.

BabyGirlie discovered how to climb over the gate in her room -- she put the hamper upside down, climbs up and jumps over. So I took the hamper away.

She raised me by getting the diaper box. So I took the diaper box away.

She raised me again by trying to stand on her rocking chair.  Guess who fell and got a fat lip?

And BabyBug? 

She was the worst. 

She began throwing up at 9am.

When she wasn't throwing up, she was pooping.  Normally on me. 

At one point, I was literally up to my elbows in excrement. 

Thus, during naptime, I began weeping at my computer. 

"Mommy, why are you crying?"  Girlie asked me.  "Are those sad tears or happy tears?"

"Mommy's overwhelmed," I sniffed.  "These are sad tears."

"Oh," she said and walked away. 

She came back a few minutes later and handed me this.  "For when you want to cry sad tears.  This will help.  It's a subscription." 

And then I was crying happy tears.

Wordless Wednesday: Star Wars and the Beanstalk

Not quite sure what was going on, but I did over hear C-3P0 saying, "LUKE! Come down here RIGHT NOW or you are going in the penalty box!  5... 4... 3... Thank you Luke.  That is a good boy."

World of Color

Disney finally did it.  They reduced me to tears.

I had taking BabyGirlie to Disneyland Sunday, July 7th for a Mommy and Me date.  

The thing about that, though, is that I don't get to ride any roller coasters.  

And the older two had been asking to go on "the tire ride" and see the "water show."  

So I had to go back with just the big kids, right?

LOVE. HIS. FACE.

She was NOT pleased she got wet. 

Wearing "Nachos" to stay dry.

This was the moment I started crying. World of Color did a tribute to America for the 4th.  My son screaming "HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA" and my daughter singing "You're a grand old flag" pushed me over the edge.

And we caught the fireworks on the way out. 

"Mommy, you made the world explode for us!" 

Baby Girlie's Date Day

She never gets me to herself.  She was THRILLED.

Glamour Girl!

Hanging with the cousins!

Exhausted... and yet, she still has a death grip on her churro.

Wordless Wednesday: My son took a great picture of the two of us.... and ruined it.

He said the bear pooped us out.

Saving Your Wedding Dress

The other day we were cleaning out our closet and I came across my wedding dress -- cleaned and preserved in a box bigger than my 4 year old. 

 I began to wonder why I saved it... I mean, I know why, but 7 years later, I began wondering if it was worth it to save it.  It's big.  And takes up a lot of room.  And my girls will probably never wear it.  

I did some research to see about selling or donating it. When I mentioned that to an acquaintance, she seemed horrified.  After all, she told me, "That's sad.  You keep it to remind you that your husband loves you and you love him."  

I don't need a dress to remind me of that.  

I love my husband for so many reasons.... 

 Because he buys me flowers for no reason. 

Because when we go to Olive Garden and they give us three mints, he gives me two.

Because he makes me laugh.

Because he texts me in between classes to say he loves me.

Because he hugs me when I'm crying even when I don't want a hug.

Because when I totally over schedule myself/the kids/the family, he rolls his eyes but does it anyway.

Because he makes me think.

Because he rarely says "I told you so."

Because he rubs my feet.  

Because he is an incredible father.

Because he makes me feel.

Because he makes me a better mother.

 Because he plays dress up with the kids.

Because he spent Father's Day setting up a Malibu Dream House for our daughter.

Because he is the baby sleep whisperer.

Because he apologizes for drinking my wine.

Because he cleaned this up.

Because, seriously -- baby sleep whisperer.

Because he raced our son on a skateboard with sticks.  And "let" Boyo win.

Okay, this is getting ridiculous.

Because he loved the Star Wars vest my grandma made him.

Because he can hold a baby and drink a beer at the same time.

Because he has light saber battles in the dark with the kids.

Okay, now I feel like he's mocking me.

Because when BabyBug was born and the nurse wouldn't give her to me, he took the baby away from the nurse and put her on my chest.

 

Because he keeps a sword in his golf clubs.  

Because he decided I was worth the trouble (and I totally am).

And I'll always have pictures like these ....

... but now I think I'm going to keep the dress.