Baby Fever

While pregnant with Jaelyn I was a single waitress living with my parents. My pregnancy was a complete shock. I had declared, 2 weeks prior to finding out, I was NEVER having kids. I always jinx myself.

During my pregnancy with Jaelyn I inguired about a hysterectomy. Yes, a hysterectomy. I wanted EVERYTHING gone. At the time, Jaelyn was more than I had bargained for.

Since I would be down for the count during Jaelyns delivery and they might go in for a tubal ligation, they could go ahead and take the whole shabang. No more kids or periods, that life sounded amazing.

I am thankful I didn’t meet the criteria for a hysterectomy or tubal ligation,  at that time. After marrying Brandon I couldn’t wait to have more babies and grow our family. 

Brandon begged me not to have a tubal ligation after Jenna was born. He wasn’t done making babies. I agreed. Despite being done making babies before I ever started but whatever. I am thankful everyone talked me out of it but I was even more thankful no one spoke out against it after Jace. Hallelujah! 

When I was pregnant with Jace my OBGYN asked me if I was interested in any kind of birth control after delivery. I repied, “yes, I ‘m interested in the kind that prevents this from ever happening again.” The doctor laughed at me. I wasn’t joking, I was dead serious.  

Recently I’ve been having baby fever. Leave me alone, my uterus aches. Their sweet little heads, the smell of their body, the whimper in their cries, I miss cuddling up to a newborn. I yearn to be the only one who can make the baby stop crying. I want to smell baby lotion again and make bottles. I want itty bitty diapers that accompany those tiny baby tushies. Oh, and those little gas smiles that make your heart melt even though you know they aren’t real. I miss all those sweet moments.

Then reality hits and I remember.

I remember the bad times. The time Jaelyn peed in my mouth, while smearing poop all over my arms. I remember the projectile vomit that made him look like a scene out of the Exorcists. He was our “sickly” baby

I remember Jenna turning her butthole into a water spout and clearing two feet with her poop stream. I remember her gas belly aches, all overs of the night. She was our “gas drop” baby. 

I remember Jace waking up at 4am, ready to play. I remember him not holding his bottle until he was 10 months old. He was the “baby of the family” and suffered from all the symptoms. 

I remember the cycle of 2 hour feedings in the middle of the night. I remember the endless ear infections because of teething. The antibiotics side effects were horrid.

The bad times are such vivid memories. 

Everyone says the good times outweigh the bad and they make it all worth it in the end. That statement is only partially true in my eyes. The good times do not outweigh the bad.

I have often found myself thinking back to when the kids were smaller. I always remember the poopy situations and the rough times. I can’t recall the first time any of the kids gave me a gas smile but I can recall every night they peed on me. I don’t think the good outweigh the bad but one way or another I do think it’s all worth it in the end.

With that being said, I am thankful my baby fever passed before I did something that would put me elbow deep in pea-green baby shit again.

As we change the diaper, we realize the diaper changes us.




The Making of a Selfie Queen


When people ask me what I think my best physical feature is, the only hesitation I have is which facial feature I’m going to spotlight. I love my smile. It’s not a perfect she must have had braces (I didn’t) smile but it’s warm and always sincere. My eyes are amazing. They’re so dark brown they look black. They say your eyes are the window to your soul; my soul must be dark and intense yet beautiful. My nose fits perfectly within the rest of my features. It’s not a bad nose at all; it can smell a poopy diaper from 10 feet away. It’s a damn good nose. I know hair isn’t a facial feature but I just want everyone to know that my hair is often the recipient of many compliments as well, when it’s fixed.

I don’t want you to think I’m conceited because that is not at all the case. You see my whole life I’ve been pleasantly plump, a little thicker than most girls.  I’ve always heard, “oh you have such a beautiful face.” I grew up only embracing my face because that’s what everyone complimented me on. I knew I was bigger than most girls but it was never an issue until I seen pictures of myself.

I remember looking at pictures from my first wedding and being completely disgusted with my body. It was the first time I had ever looked at my full body in a picture and I didn’t like what I saw. It wasn’t horrible but I could see why no one ever complimented me on anything else.

In every picture, I was smiling and my eyes were shining so bright you could see the happiness oozing out of my face. I could finally see what everyone else seen. I only had a beautiful face. The rest of me wasn’t cute at all. My arms were chubby, my butt was flat and lets not talk about my gut the “bone girdle” couldn’t even contain.

Every time I look at those wedding pictures my eyes immediately go to all my problem areas. I hate the way it makes me feel about myself. Looking at my reflection in a mirror is completely different to me than seeing myself in a picture. Those images haunt me.

When I recieved my first digital camera, I learned to take selfies. They became my favorite pictures of myself. They focused on the one part of my body that I was comfortable with, my face. I’ve never taken a selfie I didn’t like. I should give lessons. Picking the right pose, knowing your angle, getting the lighting just right, Sometimes I view it as an art form. I tried to teach my sister how to take a cute selfie but it was an epic fail. She wound up looking more like Meg (from Family guy) than ever before. Wait, this isn’t about my sister, this is about me and my body image issues. Back to me…

I’m coming to terms with being who I am. I still don’t like pictures of my full body. For the past 5 years family pictures are always done right after I have a kid. They all have that extra 100 pounds I gained during every pregnancy. Family pictures are never taken when I’m thinner and feel better about myself; which makes my full-body-image-photo-phobia even worse.

Please don’t take this wrong. I love myself and I don’t hide from family pictures. I just don’t like to throw them all over the internet. I know what my body could look like and those are the pictures I enjoy. For now, I love my selfies. They show all my best features and those are the pictures I enjoy sharing.

So next time you see me on Selfie Club posting about how I’m the #SelfieQueen, please don’t shake your head and pass judgment on me. Just smile and wait for the day that I feel comfortable enough with you to share my full body photos. That day will come, I promise.

Follow my shenanigans on Facebook.


Naptime WAS Sacred


If you follow me on my Facebook page then you know #NaptimeisSacred. If you are a SAHM then you know #NaptimeisSacred. Heck, if you are a PARENT you know #NaptimeisSacred. You know who doesn’t know this? Punk ass teenagers, that’s who. Parents of teens don’t be offended; I don’t think all teens are punks, just the three that ruined naptime for me.

I’ll never forget that day. I remember everything like it was yesterday when in reality it’s been over a month. Every time I lay down to sleep, I think about it. Every time I’m home alone, I think about it. Naptime hasn’t been the same since. Naptime is no longer truly sacred for me.

I had been up the night before writing a blog. I had only gotten three hours of sleep. Jaelyn was at school. I had just fed Jenna and Jace soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. I could barely keep my eyes open. I was excited for naptime. I needed a nap, bad.

I put them both down to nap in separate rooms. They both fell asleep without any problems. I smoked a cigarette, made sure all the doors were locked and went upstairs for my nap.

I remember tossing and turning for about 30 minutes. I would doze off but wake back up within minutes. Which isn’t unusual for me during naptime, I’m always worried I won’t hear the kids when they wake up. I have this weird fear of waking up to the kids running around like wild banshees.

All of a sudden our dogs started barking. It was a crazy, loud and even ferocious bark. I thought maybe the UPS man had dropped off a package. I wasn’t expecting one but with the holidays so close sometimes my mom has gifts shipped directly to our house. I should have got up and checked but I was too tired. I knew the kids would be up within the hour and I wanted to get as much sleep as possible. The dogs barking calmed down. They slowly stopped, like dogs normally do when they’re barking at something outside and it disappears. It was 1:07 PM the last time I checked the clock.

I started to fall back asleep but was startled again when the dogs started barking crazy, just like before. I looked at the clock it was 1:19PM. For crying out loud, I want to freaking sleep! At this point I knew I had to investigate, if nothing else I needed to yell at the dogs so they’d stop barking. I grabbed a single package of wipes. The crinkling of the wrapper scares the dogs. I didn’t want to yell and wake the kids up. I was just going to toss the wipes down stairs and tell the dogs to go lay down.

I got to the top of the stairs and the dogs stopped barking. It didn’t slowly stop like usual, with a few growls and even a single bark. No, it was an abrupt stop, leaving a dead silence downstairs. Something’s not right. That’s not how my dogs stop barking.

Then I heard a male voice say, “Ahhh shit!” I swear on my life, I almost crapped myself. That’s not Brandon’s voice. Who the hell is in my house? I should have panicked. I should not have been able to think clearly but I could and I was! I don’t have a gun. We own two machetes; one in the garage and one next to my side of the bed. If I move, the floor will creak. They don’t know I’m home. I was thinking so clearly, to this day I am still shocked my mind was able to respond this way. Jenna and Jace are 10 feet from me, sleeping. I can’t wake them up. I have to get this guy out of my house, quietly. Holy shit, what do I do?

In a stern voice, while possibly peeing my pants, I said “You are on video surveillance right now. You have to the count of three to get the fuck out of my house, before I cock this son-of-a-bitch and come down GUNS BLAZING. One…… Two……” Just then my front door slammed shut. Holy shit, it worked. I just threatened to shoot a man with a package of wipes!

I ran down stairs and looked out the window by the front door. There was a young kid about 15 years old walking casually down my drive way with his cell phone in his hand. He was clearly making a call on speaker phone. He turned around and looked back at my house. I feel like our eyes met. I’ll never forget his eyes. Jenny, stop watching him and lock the damn door. He walked across the street to a vacant house. He was standing on the front porch. My door was still locked. How did he get in?

I ran back upstairs to get my phone so I could call the police. I decided to go into Jenna’s room and look out her bedroom window at the house across the street. The kid that was in my house along with 2 other kids, walked from behind the vacant house to the house next store. They’re body language and demeanor reminded me of a Big Foot sighting. None of them looked in the direction of my house. They weren’t talking. In fact one of them even put his hand on the side of his face, blocking his profile from my view. That little asshole, THEM assholes!

I handled the police. Then I called Brandon crying, then I called my mom crying then I sat in the chair and cried a little bit longer until the kids woke up. They slept until almost 3:15 PM, which could have been a glorious naptime had some punks not ruined it.


At the bus stop I told another parent what happened. She had woke up to texts from her sister, who lived a couple houses down, saying there were three teenage boys walking around looking in windows and knocking on everyone’s door. So they had been around the neighborhood stealing from everyone while they were at work. Punk ass teenagers!

We haven’t had any more problems but that doesn’t mean I feel safe. A teenage boy was able to gain access to my home, what’s stopping someone with more life experience?

Naptime was scared in my house and now it’s ruined. I have yet to sleep alone since it all happened. Maybe one day I’ll be able to get back into my daily routine of naps, I miss sleeping all day. One day I’ll be able to say naptime is sacred and really mean it.