Mine

I never liked babysitting. 

I hated when people would ask me to babysit. They just assumed that all fourteen year old girls love little kids and babies, and I was too nice to tell them no.

I hated it though. Every minute of it. 

I hated the whiny voices and the messy meals. I hated how all the toys in the house were always sticky and dirty. I wasn't comfortable holding babies. They were so wiggly, and their heads bobbed around unnaturally, and I just knew that I would break them. And when they cried? It was all over. 

I think the little ones could smell my fear.

I didn't want to play with the kids; the idea of hide-and-seek or pretend play was so dull to me. I would simply plug them in front of a movie and then write notes to my friends that I would give to them the next day at school, (sadly for me, there was no texting or Facebook when I was a teenager).

Yeah, I was pretty much an awesome babysitter.

I have just never been crazy about other peoples' kids. 

I didn't melt over their photos, or want to hold their babies. I just had no interest in them, and yet, I always knew I wanted my own kids. I knew that all I wanted in life was to be a stay-at-home mom. And I wanted lots of kids.

When I got pregnant with Jacob, I wasn't scared to be a mom. I was ready. I was excited to have my own baby. I remember when I had my first ultrasound done at 10 weeks, and the doctor printed off the pictures and gave them to me, I had never felt so proud in my whole life. That's my baby, my very own baby, and look at how perfect she is! (I assumed Jacob was going to be a girl until we found out otherwise). 

Nevertheless, when I was leaving the doctor's office and went back out to the waiting room I had to bite my tongue because all I wanted to do was shove my ultrasound pictures in the face of the waiting room attendant and tell her all about how awesome and perfect my baby was.

When I was in labor with Jacob, I remember being in horrible pain, it was the worst I had ever felt in my life. I had my eyes squeezed shut and was just trying to get the process over with. All the sudden my mom said, "Oh my gosh, Kellyn, look!"

I opened my eyes, and Jacob was out, and they were holding him up in front of me and oh my God. 

All that pain instantly went away; I had never seen a more perfect, beautiful sight in my whole life. It was amazing. I just fell in love.

And then they put him in my arms and I melted into him, and it was perfect. It was like he'd always been in my life, and I was so comfortable holding him and caring for him.

While Ryan's birth was a little more complicated because of his prematurity, the same thing happened. It was like he had always been a part of our family and even though I worried over his skinny limbs, I wasn't afraid to hold him or love him.

Now my sons seem so big in my eyes and they make me laugh every day. I love getting on the floor and playing with them and tickling them. I love making them meals that they enjoy. 

I love how Jacob's finger nails are always dirty, and how Ryan always seems to have grape jelly in his hair. I think they are adorable when they have little runny noses, and when they get grass stains on their clothes from playing outside.

I'm so different with my own children, versus the teenage Kellyn who used to babysit. Becoming a parent is truly unlike anything else in this world. There is a bond that no one can replicate. 

When I used to babysit, I would watch the clock and pray the hours would go by fast so I could go home and get away from those loud, messy kids. 

Now I pray that God will make the days go just a little bit slower, and keep my babies from growing up too fast.

Flash Back Friday - Like Father Like Sons

My friend Chris very kindly pointed out to me that I have been neglecting to do my "Flash Back Friday" segments. 

I admit, it's been harder to do than I originally thought. I had planned to put a lot of old diary entries, and college papers on here. But, as it turns out, most of those college papers aren't very interesting to read, and as for the diary entries - let's just say I won't torture all of you with the musings of a dramatic 15 year old girl.

But I think it's fine for me to put pictures on here, which leads me to this week's theme.

When Richard gets home from deployment I am planning to blow up photos of the boys, and put giant words on them that say things like "Welcome Home Daddy!" and, "We Missed You!", etc. Then we're going to place the welcome home signs along our street leading up to the house.

I took these pictures of the boys yesterday evening, wearing miniature Sailor uniforms. These are the photos I plan to use to make the signs:

Jacob in his Sailor uniform

My kids are so patriotic

After I uploaded the pictures to my computer though, I was instantly reminded of a similar one taken a couple decades ago...

Richard, wearing a similar uniform. Awww!

 

 It's funny though, because I have always thought that Ryan most resembles Richard, but when comparing the photos I took of the boys, to this one of Richard, I kind of think that Jacob looks more like him, at least at that age. 

I really see the similarities in this photo in particular:

Happy Flash Back Friday!

I am Never Washing My Sheets Again

I was reading a friend's blog the other day and he had written about how his wife was teaching him to wash their bed sheets every 1 to 2 weeks.

It got me wondering when the last time was that I washed mine. I think it was in August. I'm pretty sure.

I didn't even know you were supposed to wash your bed sheets on a semi-regular basis until I was in my early twenties.

Before that, I thought it was a good thing for your sheets to mold to your body's shape and to take on your odor, after months and months of you sleeping in them.

I have made an effort to be more on top of it, but sometimes I forget. Plus, since I'm the only one sleeping in our bed at the moment, I obviously feel like our bed is only half as dirty as it would be if Richard were here.

When he is home, I swear, every. time. I wash the sheets, he comes home from a long day at work and the FIRST thing he does is lay down on the freshly cleaned bed, while wearing his filthy combat boots.

I always bite my tongue because I know he gets nagged at all day by people at work, and he shouldn't get it from his wife too, the minute he walks in the door. 

But believe me, in my head, I am totally screaming.

So anyway. Yesterday I got inspired to clean the bed sheets. I opened our bedroom window to let in some fresh air, ripped off the pillow cases and sheets and threw them all in the laundry.

At that point I was feeling so motivated that I went through my closet, pulling out old clothes or ones that I never wear. I packed up two huge garbage bags full of clothes to give away.

The rest of the day we were busy: I took the boys for a car ride, then we went to the park, then it was time for dinner, and soon after, bedtime. That's when I settled on the couch to watch TV, most importantly, my very favorite show, "Modern Family", which premiered last night.

Afterward I suffered through the premier of "Cougar Town", which I personally think is the most mindless, boring piece of trash on TV - BUT - Jennifer Aniston was guest-starring and I wanted to see her and Courtney Cox together again, hoping against all odds that it would be reminiscent of "Friends".

I was horribly disappointed.

Just as that show ended, Ryan started to cry. I waited a couple minutes, to see if he'd get himself back to sleep but he didn't. 

I got him out of his crib but he wouldn't stop crying, it was a horribly pained sob. I've never heard him cry like that before. And the worst part was that I couldn't get him to calm down for at least 20 minutes, which is so unlike Ryan. It scared me. 

So I decided to keep Ryan out on the couch with me so I could observe him. He finally calmed down and closed his eyes for a bit. I thought he was asleep for good.

At midnight he woke up screaming again. Even though I did get him calmed down and into his crib after this, we went through this cycle the entire night. Ryan would fall asleep, then wake up suddenly screaming.

After I got him quieted down shortly before 1am, I was just out of it and exhausted. I stumbled to my bedroom, craving my nice, comfy bed and soft sheets...oh but wait.

My sheets were still in the washer, soaking wet from hours ago. 

And there were two huge garbage bags full of clothes sitting on my bare mattress. 

And my room was freezing since I had left the damn window open. 

So I ended up having to sleep on the couch. All because I decided to do some laundry.

I am never washing my sheets again.

Mama in the Moon: International Sensation

So one cool thing about this blogging site, is that I can see where in the world my readers (you know, all six of them), live. Obviously, the majority are in the U.S. (hi, Mom). But since I started this blog, I have had readers from The Netherlands, Denmark, the U.K., Germany, Belgium, South Africa, Russia, Honduras, Italy and Canada. So to all of you I want to hi! Thanks for reading this little blog here. 

Who knew I would one day become an international sensation, right?

I mean, my parents must be so excited to get this news. Before, when talking about their kids they were probably like, "Our son is so brilliant! He is a commercial pilot and he flies all over the country, and do you know how smart you have to be to get a job like that? He is just our pride and joy. Oh, and we have a daughter. She stays at home and writes a blob? Or blog? Something that she claims makes use of those very expensive college skills, which we are still paying for."

But NOW:

"Oh we have a son, he flies planes and stuff. But our daughter! Wow, she is an international sensation. She is a published internet writer! People all around the world read her blog, and she is the funniest! We are so proud of her. Seriously, she is like right up there with all those A-List celebrities, like, everyone knows her name".

You're welcome, mom and dad.

Anyhow, so I just wanted to give a shout-out to my international community! Say hello sometime, I would love to hear what's going on in your part of the planet. 

Even you, Canada.

I See London, I See France...I See Girly Underpants

Last week I wrote about how I've been having problems with Jacob taking his diaper off. He even knows how to unhook a diaper and pull it off through the leg holes of a onesie. So I decided to try to outsmart him by putting him in a Pull-Ups diaper, since those don't unhook. The only problem is that Pull-Ups aren't designed to be peed in for 8 hours, so I had to search for Nighttime Pull-Ups. I was so excited when I found them in the diaper section at Target. I bought them and took them straight home.

They have been working pretty well, except that I recently noticed a small problem.

The Pull-Ups are Disney Princess-themed.

It wasn't until like the fourth time that I was putting one on Jacob that I actually stopped and looked at the cartoon printed on the front of the diaper. 

Yeah, I'm super observant.

I'd be that parent that buys their child a toy that is supposed to "I love you!" but instead, we get the defective one that says "I'm gonna kill you!" and I wouldn't even realize it until five years later when we're selling it at a garage sale, and some other parent, who is far more observant, points it out.

That's me.

So now I have a pack of Sleeping Beauty Pull-Up diapers that are half gone at this point, so I obviously can't return them now, and I'm certainly not going to throw them away when I paid $15 American dollars for them. I just distract the boys when I change them, so that they don't notice the pretty princess on their underpants, (to avoid causing them any sort of confusion about their masculinity). And I try to use the diapers as often as possible so that all the evidence will be gone by the time Richard gets home, because I have a feeling that my military husband would NOT be okay with his sons wearing these:

Seriously! How did I NOT notice??

_ _

So yesterday was a very lazy day for me. The boys and I are still shaking off the last bit of this cold we've had all week, and I had no energy whatsoever. 

Around 4pm I turned on the TV and saw the a Law and Order: SVU marathon was on. This basically meant that aside from feeding my kids dinner and putting them to bed a couple hours later, my butt was glued to the couch until 11pm when the marathon ended.

As I was laying in bed a short time later, I was feeling pretty down, just thinking about how I did squat yesterday. Then I started thinking about how Richard is coming home soon and that I just don't feel like I have really rocked it in the self-improvement category during this deployment.

That's when I got an idea.

Richard will be home in _ _ days. (Sorry internet folk, can't share the actual number with you. Loose lips sink ships, ya know?). So I was thinking that _ _ days is not long at all, and I have committed myself to eat completely healthy every day for those next _ _ days. 

I admit, my self-control with food is shaky, at best. I usually give in to the ebb and flow of my emotions, boredom, or PMS. But I am determined to be strong and in control from here on out for the next _ _ days, because it sounds totally doable to me. And I am putting this out there so you all can hold me accountable.

Also, I plan to work out every day for the next _ _ days. Whether it's walking, or doing a workout video, I will get my heart rate up.

I am realistic here, and I know I won't be my dream size at the end of _ _ days, but once I finish this, I know I will feel accomplished, and like I did improve myself while Richard was away. He will come home to a wife that is confident, healthy and happy, and that is the hottest thing I could possibly wear anyway. 

Or maybe that's just what us non-skinny people say. 

In any case.

I am excited and feeling totally pumped up about this challenge to myself. I hope you all will encourage me! And if anyone feels like joining me that is great too.

After all, it's only _ _ days, you can totally do it!

I Drink the Same Water Jesus Drank

So for the last four weeks, my kitchen sink has been broken. 

The pipe underneath had become detached, and leaked water EVERYWHERE unless I had something to catch it. I had to put my largest cooking pot down there (I think we all know I never actually use those to cook stuff). Normally that pot was more than enough, but when I would run my dishwasher, it was a whole new ballgame. I would have to empty it at least four times throughout the washing cycle, and it still always ended up flooding my kitchen.

It was SUCH a headache. 

It probably would have been fixed last month, when it first started, but I had mentioned it to my landlord really fast the day I was leaving for Tennessee, and he told me he didn't have the tools for it then. So, rather than manning up and calling him as soon as I got home, I just ignored the problem. Well, as much as I could. It was hard though, because it really changed the way I live.

I already mentioned how I had to practically babysit the pipe every time I ran the dishwasher. And because the water would come out so fast and inevitably flood the kitchen floor every couple days, I would have to use all of my bath towels to mop up the huge mess. This meant that since there were no towels left, I had to go without showering. 

I'm kidding. I only did that like twice.

Also, and please nobody send me hate mail over this, but I tend to waste water. I know, I KNOW! That's so not PC, and I am supposed to care about saving the earth and blah blah. But ya know what? I watched a video in second grade that said there is JUST as much water today as when Jesus walked the earth, and when Abraham Lincoln was around. So I choose to believe that video, and tell all of you to just chill on the whole "wasting water" thing. 

Anyhow. So, like I was saying. For instance, when I brush my teeth, I leave the faucet running the whole time that I am brushing. Richard always turns it off, but that just drives me crazy, because I know that in two seconds I will just need to turn it back on. Sheesh.

And when I am rinsing dishes in the sink I just let the faucet run continuously. And I like to wash my hands in the kitchen sink, since the only place I typically handle eggs or raw meat is in the kitchen. Like, 97% percent of the time.

But since the pipe started leaking, I really had to rein in my water-wasting ways. I had to start washing my hands in the laundry room sink, and I would only turn on the kitchen sink if absolutely necessary.

I was getting really tired of never having any clean towels though, and having to live like people did a hundred years ago, before they had running water. So I broke down and called my landlord. I get really intimidated by people in authority positions though, and I was kind of nervous that he would get mad at me for not calling him sooner, (never mind the fact that he is a nice guy and has never once gotten mad at me, that is completely irrelevant to my fear). So when I called him, I tried to play it all cool.

"Uhm, hi Mike, this is Kellyn. Uhm, I just wanted to let you know that I'm still having some trouble my kitchen sink. It's totally NOT a big deal though, so if you can't make it out here till sometime in 2012 that is fine, we're really flexible, cause like I said it's not a big deal and I am fine with waiting, that's why I didn't contact you at any point in the last four weeks, that's how fine we are. So to wrap this up, everything is great and I'm sorry I bothered you, talk to you later."

I'm awesome at confrontation.

Anyways, so you can imagine my relief now that everything is fixed up. This morning I let the kitchen sink run water for like 10 whole seconds. 

Just for the heck of it.