minor life changes

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Cheerwine

So I have a funny story from the other night. But it's embarrassing. Almost as embarrassing as the outfit I was wearing the other day. Fleece with snowflakes, geesh. Well, maybe more embarrassing because I was wearing an outfit much like that when this happened. Anyways. P-dubs arrived home from work to two beautiful babies but no dinner. {This happens a lot. Fail.} So I headed out into the night to pick something up for him. I may not cook you dinner but, by golly, I'll hop in my car and get you Taco Bell at 9:45 at night. I'm a good wife like that. {I brought Howie along for the ride because he went from 'Only Child' to 'What? I'm not even really a child?!' in a very short amount of time. I think he needed a little one on one time.}

As I was leaving Taco Bell, the bright and cheerful lights of Cookout beckoned for me to come on over for some hush puppies and a Cheerwine float. Don't mind if I do. {Nothing like eating right while breastfeeding. Fail.}

Well, the little high school boy leans out the window to take my card and says 'Pretty dog' as he hands me my float. But then as he hands back my card he says, 'Prettier driver.' Huh? I literally thought, 'Who's the driver?' and almost looked around the car for someone who could be worthy of this compliment. Oh but he was talking about ME. {At least in comparison to the dog...} Ha. Let me remind you, it was 10:00 at night. It was very dark. Very. Poor kid. He had no clue what he was really complimenting. But then it got worse. I laughed a meek, little uncomfortable laugh and started to pull away. 'Ma'am you're waiting on your hush puppies.' Shoot. So I had to put the car in reverse to go back to the window. I should have just left then. I already had my Cheerwine float. Clearly, I have not been complimented by anyone in a long time. I just didn't even know what to do with myself. {P-dubs does compliment me but that's part of his job.} Anyways. It cracked me up. I called Paul to tell him and he said, 'Ha. You made that up.' I wish that were true, buddy. I wish that were true. All in all, it was a good experience though because Howie was told he was pretty . And he liked that. We think you're pretty too, Howard. Yes, we do.

thebeautifulmess.com

Thursday, January 5, 2012

some days are...poopy

Today I'm feeling a little anxious...terrified, if we're being honest. {Which I try to be.} Today is Day 1 of cloth diapering. Cloth diapering?! Who does that?? Why would I be crazy enough to shrug off the cleanliness (well kind of) and convenience of disposables? Umm. Because remember this one time I had TWO babies at the SAME TIME? And these two little bums are in almost constant need of a diaper change. Hello, expensive. {Also, it's good for the earth.} So here we go.

Update #1: So far, so good. And these cloth diapers are so stinkin' adorable. Stinking adorable. Har. {It's easy to crack yourself up when you're home all day with two little people who think it's the most hilarious thing in the world when you stick out your tongue.}

Update #2: My once a week pooper WOULD choose today to be her poop day. And, wow, you should have seen the faces she was making during the...ummm...process. It's like she KNOWS. Oh. My. Goodness. These babes might be witness to a mama meltdown the likes of which they've never seen. Better get on it.

Update #3: It wasn't that bad. No meltdown necessary. Don't get me wrong, if my once-a-weeker were more predictable you better believe I'd be slapping a Pamper on that sweet tush on her 'poop day.' But, alas, babies are the opposite of predictable. They are crazy. Crazy babies.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

great resolve

As I was driving through my neighborhood yesterday morning, I saw about 16 people running/jogging/walking. Now my neighborhood has quite a few committed runners/joggers/walkers but 16 people in a two mile span is kind of a lot. Oh...but it was January 2nd. January. Second. Ah... I realized many of these people were probably on Day 2 of trying to fulfill some inspiring New Years resolution. And it got me thinking about what my resolution should be. I'm under no dreamy impression that I would be able to resolve to work out everyday. Or every week for that matter. Let's be real. But there are a few things I should probably work on. Let's be more real... a lot of things. I should resolve to try to be more put together. These babies are 9 weeks old for goodness gracious. I should be able to at least appear to be a normal person as opposed to a spit-up covered mom of twins.

Sidebar: I SWORE I would never be one of those moms that always wore yoga pants and had spit-up on every article of clothing. I mean, how hard is it really to keep one's shirt free of spit up?!? But as it turns out it's harder than you think. These babies are tricky. You think you've burped them long enough. You think the spit up cloth is positioned just the right way to catch any and all liquid that may come from said vigorously burped baby. But then they sneak attack you when you least expect it.

Sidebar #2: As I write this, I'm wearing blue and green snowflake fleece pants, a black t-shirt, gray cardigan, and olive green baseball cap... Any goal of appearing like above mentioned 'normal person' at this point might be a little lofty and ambitious.

So maybe I should make a resolution I might actually be able to complete. I've already written about my desire to live more gracefully...like Mary. I think something that will help me do this is to simplify my life...particularly my terrible habit of over committing and double booking. I do this ALL the time. It drives P-dubs crazy. It irks my sister to no end. (I'm not sure who it bothers more...but it's a good bonding point for them. This probably bothers other people too but they're just too polite to say anything.) I say yes to a coffee date the same afternoon I have a doctors appointment and people coming over for dinner. {I just really love people.}I act like there are 27 hours in a day...or I justify my plans by saying, 'Well this should only be an hour and then a 20 minute drive and I'll make it to such and such' when I know full well I will lose track of time, talk for an hour and a half, and the drive will be AT LEAST 35 minutes with traffic. I can't tell you how many times my sister has called me asking where I am and I say, 'On my way!' as I'm literally just getting in the car. So I'm gonna work on it. I'm not going to try to cram too many things into too little time. I might have to say no sometimes. Which I HATE to do. But in the end I think it will make my life a little more graceful. Still spit-up covered but graceful.

Cutest spitter-uppers ever.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

2011

One year...
Two babies...

The Beautiful Mess

2012...can't wait.