Free To Be Me

Wednesday, March 26, 2014


I had a bit of an epiphany this morning while cleaning Bart's toilet.  Okay, maybe it wasn't as much an epiphany as the result of inhaling too many fumes of Kaboom! bathroom cleaner.  Either way, I had some pretty deep thoughts.  My train of thought started along the lines of how I hate cleaning the bathrooms.  It then moved from how I hate the day each (pretty much) week I clean the bathrooms to where I'm happy I'm just cleaning my family's messes these days:  that I would rather spend my days mixing in mundane housework with being Mama to a precocious Ladybug to doing anything else in the work place.

I am the most comfortable with who I am today than I have ever been in my life.  I think one of the main reasons for that is because I am no longer spending my days trying to live up to the expectations of what others have for me.  This isn't a Mommy Wars blog post, but it is a heartfelt post regarding where I am blessed to be in my life.  Remember, what works for me does not work for everyone.

"Don't you want more?"  

"Don't you want to be successful?"

"Wouldn't you like more money, to be able to take more vacations, and just generally buy more things?"

"Don't you get bored?"

I have been asked all of these questions and more in some form or another.   I probably have given a variety of answers depending on what was going on at the time.  Yes,  I got incredibly bored during probably Ladybug's first six months or so.  No matter how advanced, babies don't tend to do a lot at that point except need you.  Then she got older, we established an ever-evolving routine, and I began to feel confident and comfortable in this new role for my life.

As to the money and the things:  we don't want for anything.  We have a warm, comfortable house, food to eat, clothes to cover our ugly bodies, and such.  Everything else is just fluff.  I am content with the good health and safety of my family.  Seriously.  New houses, cars, expensive clothes and such just don't really compare.

I think that I'm a very fortunate person.  I didn't come into motherhood until I was almost thirty-two years old.  I have lived life out there.  I have worked in the professional world.  I have bought the clothes and the all the things.  I have been happy but not necessarily joyful all at the same time.  Why?  I wasn't following my dreams.  I was busy being the person the world expected me to be.  I was busy being "on" for everyone else (and often not doing a very good job at it).  I was tired and frustrated physically and  most importantly spiritually.     I wasn't seeking God in my life daily.  I was praying, but I wasn't opening the Bible as often as I should have been.

Being a Stay-At-Home-Mom isn't about sitting around, watching daytime television and wearing my pajamas all day long.  I don't do that unless I'm like deathly ill.  It also isn't about whipping up dinners from scratch and making sure that my daughter is busy with crafts and activities all her waking hours in order to make me look good on Pinterest.  Really, it's somewhere more to the middle.  It's about being there with her when she's upset and not feeling well.  It's about laughing and singing with her.  It's about being relaxed enough, knowing that we don't have to do all the things, so that I am emotionally available for my daughter as well as physically.  It's taking the time to listen to her little voice which has so much to say.  It's about teaching her values by example.  It's about pulling out of the fast lane and really appreciating taking things slower.

Somewhere in the slower lane, I found myself.  Life isn't just about surviving another day.  It's taking the time to truly appreciate the blessings before us.  I may still hate cleaning the toilets, but every random smile or hug from Ladybug throughout the day is far more rewarding to me than any other accolades.  I love the Laura Story song, "I Can Just Be Me."  There's a part in the lyrics stating,

And be my savior, be my lifeline, won't You be my everything. 
Cause I'm so tired of trying to be someone 
I was never meant to be 
Be my God Please be my God 
Be my God 
So I can just be me

I'm no longer trying to be someone I was never meant to be.  All the things that money can buy, all of the atta-boys there are in the professional world mean nothing if you're miserable because you aren't doing what you're called by God to do.  I wasn't exactly miserable, but I wasn't joyously happy either.    I'm not condemning the working mom.  However, being a SAHM isn't this hellish Purgatory some make it out to be.  It doesn't have to be.  It also isn't like living in Martha Stewart Living.  It's just life lived at a different pace with different standards, and I love it.  I'm feel freer than I have in years to the point that I'm writing again.  You can't beat that.  Also, you sometimes have deep thoughts aided by cleaning products. :)

Great Things

Sunday, January 26, 2014


I started off this year spending my quiet time reading from 1 Kings.  I know that's a little odd, because most people start in either Genesis or Matthew with their reading plans.  I have felt very led to spend more time in the Old Testament this year, and to start in areas I haven't spent nearly as much time reading.  Anyway, I have made it to 2 Kings and recently read the story of Naaman going to Elisha to be healed of leprosy in Chapter 5.

Basically to paraphrase, the commander of the Syrian army had leprosy, and with his king's permission he went into Israel to seek Elisha and be healed.  Elisha sent a messenger and told him in order to be healed, he had to dip into the the muddy Jordan River seven times.  Apparently Naaman, the commander, liked neither the method Elisha used to speak to him nor the solution he gave.  He thought he was great enough that Elisha should have gone out, spoken to him in person, waved his hands, and healed him.  He especially didn't want to bathe in the Jordan once, much less seven times! I imagine it would be the equivalent of one of us bathing in the Buriganga River (yes, I Googled "dirty rivers"). This was far beneath a man of Naaman's consequence.  Yet his servants pointed out the obvious to him.  "My father, if the prophet had told you to do something great, would you not have done it? How much more then, when he says to you, ‘Wash, and be clean’?" -  2 Kings 5: 13 NKJV  

In other words, if Elisha had told him to build great cities, wage war, or burn thousands of sacrifices, Naaman would gladly have done it.  He told him to just bathe in a dirty river seven times.  That's not exactly something you can proclaim at the city gates (or write about in a blog post).  It was something that required this man who was great in the eyes of the world to check his pride at the river bank and do something that could be humiliating.  He did humble himself do it though, and he was healed and proclaimed the greatness of God.

We all want to do great things.  A small part of each of us wants to be known.  We want to be successful, and a part of us wants for others to envy us or at least admire us just a little.  We are taught that we aren't successful if we don't do extremely huge, popular things that bring truckloads of accolades.  We want to be called by God to write the next bestseller devotional book or design something that will help many people.  We then feel like failures when that doesn't happen in our lives, even if we're doing what God has called us to do.  We let pride cloud our judgement and forget that we are called to be humble.

As a stay-at-home-mom, it is so very easy to feel like a failure and sometimes want more.  Now especially with a toddler, any given day can be my own Waterloo, and I am not Wellington.  Right now, most days it's a battle royale just to dress Ladybug, because she wants to stay in her pjs.  I don't feel like I'm accomplishing anything, especially something great.

Then I hear her say, "Momma, I love you."  She wraps her arms around me, and gives me sweet, smacky kisses.  I realize that to her I am doing the greatest thing I can do, and I am doing great things.  I'm not successful in a business or worldy sense, but I am raising the most amazing young lady I have ever met.  I know without a doubt God called me to do this.  I may never gain fame or have my name proclaimed as great and awesome.  I may never have hundreds of followers, but I have this little person who watches every breath I take, every move I make, and every step I take.  Seriously, it's like she has taken advice from Sting.  I am doing great things in her, even when I'm reading a book while she sits on her potty chair.  The greatest things we do are often those little, seemingly insignificant ones God calls us to do every day that require humility rather than pride.  None of us is too great to do anything if it is what God has called us to do.  

Do you ever feel as if what you're doing is insignificant?  Do you ever let pride cloud your judgment?   Have you ever allowed it to prevent you from something your felt led to do?  I know that I do, have, and probably will again, but I'm slowly learning the importance of being humble.

2013 Rewind Friday: The Blessings Of Ordinary Days

Friday, November 15, 2013

This week's Rewind Friday post is from April.  It's titled "The Blessings of Ordinary Days."  You'll find mention of a Photo-a-Day blog that I started at the beginning of the year and kept up with fairly well until May.  My birthday and other things kept me from keeping up with things, and I gave up that endeavor rather than trying to force it.   The sentiments of the post remain though, and I hope you'll enjoy it.

I turned around, and my little baby has grown into a sweet, capable little girl.  I think it happened some time last week, or maybe last month.  I don't really know when it happened, because it came both so gradually and yet so suddenly that it constantly takes me by surprise.  Just the other day I was putting shoes on her feet, only to have her kick them off as soon as possible.  Today, she brought one of her shoes to me so we could go play outside, and when I asked her to find the other and bring it to me, she did.  Every day she eats a little more big-person food, and takes a little less baby food and formula (thank goodness).  Every day her walking improves to where can almost sprint.  I both love and hate these new developments.  Parenting has to be the most polarizing occupation imaginable.


I spent the first thirty-two years of my life, always waiting until the next big thing was going to happen, thinking then life would really start.  Suddenly now I'm on longer wishing for life to pass me.  Now I find myself praying, "Dear God, please let time slow down or even stop for a while.  Please let her stay little and innocent as long as possible."

Sometimes life can seem monotonous when you're a SAHM.  Then I remembered that sometimes life could get monotonous in the workplace too.  Doing the same thing, day in and day out can have that effect on you no matter where you spend your days.  Slowly I'm learning that life is more than waiting on the next big, adventure.  It is finding the joy, the inspiration, the laughter, and mostly the blessings of ordinary days.

I don't want to miss a thing in Ladybug's life.  I want to forget nothing.  I don't want to find myself sitting at her college graduation or wedding, still waiting on better, happier things to happen.  My mother has spent her life wanting better, never being content, and never finding happiness with me, with herself, or really anything or anyone.  I want to take time to realize and appreciate the importance of ordinary days.  I want Ladybug to know that she is enough; that I am happy with her.  I want her to know that she is a blessing in my life and not sound fake or frankly full of it when I say it.

My photo-a-day blog, 365,000 Words, isn't a masterpiece.  Most of the pictures are taken not with my DSLR, but my iPhone.  It is helpful in aiding my search for something each day that inspires me, gives me joy, and makes the ordinary day a little extraordinary.  The Lord made each and every day, not just the ones when something major happens.  He makes the days we spend washing and folding laundry, the days we work on a deadline, the days we're suffering from the throw-ups, and the days when the juice spills, the dogs get the floor muddy, the baby/kid is clingy and crying, and you just wish that Calgon could take you away for a while.  He's there, in all of it.  We just have to life up our eyes, look around the tasks at hand, and see the silly smiles, the budding flowers, the way the sun filters through a window, or to feel the coziness of a dog curled on your feet.  In doing so, maybe time will slow for just a little bit.


Psalm 118:24

English Standard Version (ESV)
24 
This is the day that the Lord has made;

    let us rejoice and be glad in it.

This Is My Paradise

Sunday, May 19, 2013

A little while back I asked a friend with a new baby how maternity leave was going, and she told me that she couldn't wait to get back to work.  I understand that, especially with a newborn.  As sweet and wonderful as newborns are, taking care of one can often be either boring or maddening.  I would be lying if I said that at times last year I didn't wonder if I had made a huge mistake quitting my job before Ladybug was born to become a full-time stay-at-home-mommy.  I worried that I was losing my identity, losing who I was, and at times losing my mind due to lack of adult conversation.  I was afraid everything about me would change and be lost.

It's not for everyone, staying home.  It's not easy.  It's often thankless, and you don't get vacations or sick days.  There's no Employee of the Month.  There's no chance for promotion and advancement, except many by having more kids.  There's often hidden feelings of guilt for not "contributing" to the family.  I don't hold it against anyone who chooses and/or has to work out of the home.  Everyone has to do what is best for their family.

I have always - always known that I wanted to be a stay-at-home-mom.   You can't really say that when you're younger though.  It's frowned upon in our society and makes you appear to not be goal oriented or even lazy.  SAHMs don't speak at Career Day in high school.  You can't major in being a SAHM in college.  I thank God that I fell in love with and married a man who had that growing up, wanted that for his children too, and is able to provide for us.  This is my dream job. It is the most difficult job that I have ever had.  It has forever changed who I am.  If you think about it, every experience in life changes you somehow.

I am not the same Adrienne who walked across the stage at Harvey Stadium in 1998 to accept my high school diploma, thank goodness.  Four and half years of college changed me.  I'm not the Adrienne who met Sheldon twelve years ago.  Falling in love and surviving almost ten years of a healthy, happy marriage have altered my life forever.  My first pregnancy and its loss changed me.  So, of course just being Ladybug's mom was going to redefine me.  Life, if lived, is constantly changing and altering who we are.

Somewhere along the way, the doubts that what I was doing was wrong have slowly disappeared.  I may still worry that I'm doing things wrong, but I am more confident in my skin as a SAHM.  I am comfortable with who I am.  I am happy and content.  I don't want my old life from even two years ago.  Maybe it's because Ladybug is growing up to be a very sweet, intelligent, interesting, and funny person.  Maybe it's because I've grown accustomed to no longer being part of the workforce.  It's most likely both.  The payoff has come at times like when I was the person Ladybug walked her first steps to. I'm the first person she even smiled at.  I heard her first giggles.  I have missed nothing and influenced her in everything.

Most people will take a look at the Vine below and think how chaotic it must be to try vacuuming with two dogs barking at and chasing the vacuum while a toddler runs around in circles, squealing and wanting to be chased by the vacuum.  I look at it and thank God for my healthy, crazy family.  I love that video.  I love what it represents.  Ladybug hasn't felt well the past few days due to teething, and I have missed that silly run and those squeals.  I have to remind myself that I'm not staying at home to please the world, but  in order to be the best steward of that which God has blessed me.  I think of Anne Shirley telling Gilbert Blythe, "I don't want sunbursts and marble halls. I just want YOU."  I don't need worldly accolades.  Just give me Sheldon, Ladybug, Lucy, and Dory - maybe some day a little Bee to go with the Ladybug.  This is my paradise, chaos and all.

I Missed Fall Clothes! (BLOGtober Fest Day 1: Fall Fashion and Decorating)

Monday, October 15, 2012

This week I am taking part in Arkansas Women Bloggers BLOGtober Fest, in my own special way.  Today's challenge was Fall Fashion or Decorating.  Yeah, I know.  Neither is exactly my cup of tea.  Just wait until Friday, because I am decidedly not a foodie.

I am by no means a clothes horse.  I'm anything but what you would call fashionable.  I like to dress neatly and preferably comfortably.  Back home in high school, it would have been considered "preppy," and I could never understand why some people considered that a bad thing.  I still don't.  When I worked outside the home I often wore a button-up shirt with a corresponding color tank and slacks.  Dresses just didn't make a great deal of sense, because sometimes I would have to do work that was a little more physical.  Also, I have always like there being some distinction between what I would wear to work during the week and what I would wear to church on Sunday.  I'm old fashioned in the sense that there should be a difference in how you dress at home, when you're going out during the day and night, when you're at work, and also when you're at church.  That said, the purchasing of clothes often takes a backseat in my life to other things I want to buy.

Anyway, I have been thinking about clothes more recently than I have in a long time.  Part of the reason for that is because after having Firecracker, I no longer fit into a lot of my old clothes.  Another reason is just because most of my clothes were just that... old.  Throughout the process of trying to have  a baby, having a miscarriage, recovering from that mentally, physically, and spiritually, then actually having a successful pregnancy in which I (who without trying never weighed over 100 lbs until I was 30) gained 45 lbs it had just been a vert long while since I had bought much for myself.  Lastly, I no longer need to buy work attire, so I can finally focus more on nice, every day casual clothes.  I've done just that.

I finally gave in and bought skinny jeans.  I haven't worn skinny jeans since puberty probably, but I actually love them.  I almost bought Tom's to wear with them, but my narrow foot likely just won't stay in them.  So, instead I bought some Ked's, and I love them as well.  I also cleaned out Old Navy on sweaters.  I have to say that I'm not ashamed to go out of the house anymore.  I kind of was for a while after having Firecracker, because I wasn't happy with the clothes I had and could still fit in to.

So, the other day B, Firecracker, and I were at the mall, and I saw so  many things that I wanted to buy. It was then that I realized how much I had missed fall clothes last year when I was pregnant.  I love layering sweaters, jackets, you name it.  I don't really care for most summer fashions, especially sandals.    I always loved when the "Back to School" clothes would start showing up in stores.  At this point last year I just wanted something that covered me.

Now...  Well, when I'm just hanging out at home with Firecracker and cleaning the toilets, I'm likely to wear a t-shirt and yoga pants.  However, when I go out, even to Walmart (because you really just clean up for Target), I try to clean myself up a little.  Why?  It makes me feel better.  Some other SAHM and WAHM friends of mine have discussed the need to get cleaned up, even at home.  I totally get it.  No one wants to always be the slouchy, slovenly, mother who looks all tired and worn out.  I'm so happy to be able to enjoy dressing for my favorite season again!

Of course, we all know who the best dressed girl in our house is. and I wouldn't have it any other way. I don't want to post pictures of my clothes or me in them, but isn't she beautiful?

Pretty For Church
Firecracker, The Sweet Witch
Stylish on Pike's Peak
Ready for Halloween 

An Offhanded Insult

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Two days ago I became horribly ill at some point after lunch. I don't know if it's related or not, but I had been extremely tired all morning.  However after eating lunch, I felt a little worse than tired.  I planned on putting off folding the giant mountain of laundry that has accumulated since we returned from Colorado late Sunday and instead take a nap while Firecracker that afternoon.  Thankfully she went down easily for her nap, because not long after that all hell seemed to break loose.

I started throwing up oh, around two or so.  I let B know that I was ill, but thought (hoped) that I would be fine after purging whatever was making me ill.  I wasn't, so I called B and asked him to come home early from work.

I hated to have to ask him to come home early, because it was his first day back to work after being on vacation, and I knew that he had a lot of work to do - so much so that he expected to stay late one night.  I knew that I wasn't going to be able to take care of Firecracker though, so I called him.  Though I hated to do it, I knew that it was the best thing.  Just before B got home, Firecracker awoke from her nap, and didn't like me leaving her to vomit.  I didn't like it either.  I just knew that would be when she would decide to start crawling.

By Wednesday I could hold down things like water, but was so sore and exhausted from losing everything including the Tylenol I took that when we got up, I tried to see if I could care for Firecracker alone, and I was afraid to do so.  Carrying her around made me extremely tired and even dizzy.  I didn't trust myself alone with her.

So, B went in to the office long enough to sign some things and gather stuff to bring home.  While there, a coworker asked him something that was meant to show concern, but came off insulting instead.  His coworker asked, "Is Adrienne really sick, or is she just tired from her vacation?"

B told his coworker that I really was very sick, thank goodness.  I, well I've probably thought about it too much, but it really has insulted me.

Anyone who knows me knows that I take work seriously.  I believe in taking sick days when you're ill,  because you don't do anyone any good if you're spreading germs.  I used to work somewhere where some people would come into work, sicker than anyone should be but would call in for a hangover.  That doesn't fly with me.  I especially wouldn't call my husband to come home if I was just a little tired.

I mean, for heaven's sake, he's the only breadwinner in our family!  I know that if he doesn't work, we don't get paid!  I also was well aware how much he had on his plate when he returned from vacation.  I don't believe it would have been fair to have B stay home from work to watch Firecracker just because I was tired.  What kind of wife would do that?  Seriously?  Seriously???

I would never have called B to come home just because I was tired.  If I was going to do that, I would  have done it about fifty times at least since Firecracker was born.  I called him home, because I feared for the safety of my child while I couldn't hold down enough water to keep me from dehydrating!

In all the years that B has worked for his company, I have been a very supportive wife.  He has worked long hours, weekends, been away from home more than most of his coworkers, and I have been ok with it.  I understand that it's a part of his job.  I certainly wouldn't ask him to stay home with me, when he will likely have to work on the weekend.

Like B and I discussed, it wasn't probably meant the way it came off, but I take very seriously my job as a stay-at-home-mom.  It's not just sitting around eating bons bons all day while watching soap operas or talk shows.  It's the hardest, most important job I'll ever have, and I won't shirk it because I'm tired.  If I haven't yet, I don't expect to do so anytime in the future.

A Day In the Life....

Tuesday, August 7, 2012


Once upon a time in what now seems like a very, very long time ago, I had this hair-brained idea that once I was a Stay-At-Home-Mom, I would get up around six every morning and bike a mile with each dog before the start of each day.  It wasn't entirely unfeasible either.  When Lucy was an only child, I did that with her one summer when it was really hot, and I wanted to make sure she got enough exercise.  Back then I even got up around 5:30 to do it, because I got up at 6 for work.  Now, I sometimes struggle to get out of bed at 7:30.  Why do I have such a hard time getting up in the mornings?  Let me tell you....

Sometime after six in the morning and dawn, two dogs start to wake up and decide that they A.) need to potty, and B.) that they're hungry.  Usually both Dory and Lucy decide to snuggle up with me about this time.  We all know that we need to get up, but none of us want to.  Then around 6:45, B's alarm will go off for the first time.  He will reset it for ten-fifteen minutes more usually at least twice more before he decides to get out of bed.  Some days, the girls (or at least Dory, because Lucy likes to stay in bed longer) and I get up before him, but most days we at least get up when he finally does.

While B showers, we'll go to the back yard, and Dory will go pee pee.  Then, after sniffing around the yard a while, Lucy does too.  Sometimes they'll both poop then, but often Dory at least has to eat first.  So, then we'll go in, and I'll feed them breakfast.  Dory will wait either for Lucy to start eating or until I tell her not to wait on Lucy.  Sometimes Dory makes Lucy eat her breakfast when Lucy would rather roll around on the floor or find a pair of dirty socks to carry around the house.  Then, we'll go outside for round two, and once everyone or at least one of them has pooped, they'll get a Dentastix treat.

By then, if Firecracker isn't awake, I'll unload the clean dishes that were washed in the dishwasher the night before and start filling it with whatever has accumulated throughout the day.  Then, if there is time, I'll sort the previous day's laundry and maybe pick up the house some.  There are always baby and dog toys to be put up and shoes that should go in our closet.  Then, Firecracker is usually awake, and I'll eat a bowl of cereal while feeding her a small bowl of her cereal and fruit after changing her out of the previous night's diaper.  After she finishes her cereal, we'll sit in the recliner for an 8 oz. bottle of formula, and I'll put our dishes in the dishwasher.

After breakfast is finally over, it is often around or after nine in the morning.  Then, I finally get to take a shower with Firecracker watching from her no-longer-bouncy-bouncy seat.  Usually by the time I get around to conditioner, she's tired of being in the bathroom.  She's often downright yelling at me on the days I shave my legs, hence all of the cuts.  Once I'm dried, deodorized, moisturized, and dressed, I'll then wash off Firecracker's face and other regions before lotioning and dressing her for the day.  Then, I'll place her on the spare-room bed with a paci and a couple of toys while I dry my hair.  That's about two or so hours after she first woke up.  So, between the time she had been awake and the white noise from my hair dryer, Firecracker usually will fall asleep for a nice catnap.  I usually try to get my blogging and some other things done then.  Sometimes the catnap lasts twenty minutes.  Sometimes it can last an hour.  However long it lasts, life is much more pleasant when she either gets that or a form of it while traveling somewhere in the car.

After her catnap, we usually make our way back downstairs and play in the floor together until it's time to eat lunch.  Then, I'll make myself something to eat, and Firecracker gets to eat a vegetable or fruit.  After that, it's time for her midday bottle.  Then we usually play again for a while, then we go upstairs for story time.  Dory almost always comes up with us for this.  Lucy does sometimes.  After that, Firecracker goes down for her afternoon nap.  Sometimes it can take a while to get her to take that nap, even though she always needs it.  That one usually lasts at least an hour.  Sometimes it lasts longer, sometimes less than an hour.

Depending on the time she wakes from her afternoon nap, we either play for a bit, or we have our afternoon bottle.  After that, we have more play time until B gets home from work - usually some time between six and seven at night, though it's not unheard of to be later.  Once B gets home, I start cooking dinner, and he'll take over Firecracker duties.  Firecracker gets a vegetable now while we eat our dinner.  I try to get the dishes cleared and in the dishwasher right after we eat.  If not,  B or I will do it while the other feeds Firecracker her night bottle later.  Then the fun begins.

After dinner, we all go outside and play with Lucy and Dory.  Firecracker especially loves flying through the air, chasing the girls.  They like it too.  The back yard is often filled with squeals of laughter.  After that, it's time for Firecracker's nighttime bottle.  Then it's bath time.  After bath time, we often need to play a bit more, then we take a couple of ounces of formula in what we call a "night cap" bottle with a slow-flow nipple.  Then we put her to bed at night.  Usually we'll have to go upstairs a couple of times to recover her and put a paci back in her mouth before she's out for the night.

By this time, it could be anywhere from nine at night to ten.  Depending on the night and our moods, this is time for Mom and Dad.  No matter what else, we both usually need a back popping.  Frankly I'll be a very compliant wife for a good back pop and head rub at night. :)

No matter what's going on, we usually take Lucy and Dory to potty one last time, then the four of us get into  bed between 11:30 and midnight.   I would like to read then or write, be it blog or fiction, but I've learned that once my eyes start crossing it's time to turn off my lamp and get to sleep.  Unfortunately it's summer, and I usually wake in an hour or two with insomnia.  I have never slept well in the hottest part of the summer.  That can go on for a while before I get back to sleep.  It's very miserable.

So, I haven't made the effort to get up early to bike with the dogs, because I don't do anything at all during the day.  Unless you count the laundry, dusting cleaning, vacuuming, and mopping I manage to mix into this routine each day.  It's a good routine though.  It has evolved a great deal in the past six months, and it works for us.  It's flexible enough that we can get out on do things without messing up the eating / sleeping part too much.  I will admit that on the days Firecracker wakes up early, I often find myself wondering, "What on earth am I going to do with her?" because especially with it being so hot these days, we run out of things to do.

Maybe if I get to sleep well tonight, and no one, be it baby, dog, or husband wakes me for any reason, I'll want to get up early and bike.  Maybe.  I should probably air my tires just in case.

The Guilty Pleasure Of This SAHM

Thursday, May 17, 2012

If I were to write a television series, I would be sure to always leave people hanging on the edge of their seats with each season finale.  That way, you know they'll tune in next season to see the fallout of whoever shot JR or who fathered Rachel's baby.  You have to admit that unless you aren't sure a season is going to be renewed when the finale is written, it's better not to bookend the season in a way that can also close the series.

Tonight I am emotionally distraught at the finale of Grey's Anatomy.  Absolutely distraught.  I have watched the series off an on through the years, but never loyally.  For some reason I never became a loyal viewer.  I think that maybe it's because B isn't a fan of medical dramas, whereas I like them.  I like medical dramas, courtroom dramas, and especially family dramas.  I just am not a fan of cop shows.

Anyway,  I spend most of each and every day, sitting in our recliner, feeding Firecracer her bottles.  That's just a big part of what being a SAHM is, and for me that time is spent reading news and such on my iPad and watching television.  Although I do also try to do a big of reading as well.  Whereas I once liked daytime television, I've found that I really don't care for the majority of what airs before noon these days.  I think I've become more selective with age.  I have started to watch reruns of Grey's Anatomy every day on Lifetime.

In fact, I DVR the reruns so if I'm not at home I can watch them whenever I am once again in the recliner, and there is nothing worthwhile to watch on TV.  I'll do this any day over watching some psuedo-reality show on my 400 cable channels.  This is my guilty Stay-At-Home-Mom pleasure.  I mean, the few soap operas that are left on the air are written so horribly that I can't stand to watch any of them at all.   Being a SAHM is not sitting around the house, watching soap operas, and eating bon bons. I barely have time to eat anything at all, and soap operas suck.

So again, I am distraught at the finale.  I knew they were killing off a main character, but I really liked this one.  I'm not going to stop watching because this character was killed, but DANG!  I haven't been this bothered by a character death since Lucy Knight died on ER.

There, that was cathartic.  Now I can get on with my life....  We're taking Firecracker to my hometown Saturday night to watch THREE of my cousins graduate high school.  B's grandparents are coming up from Little Rock next weekend to meet their first great-grandchild.  Real life is happening and much, MUCH more important than any television series.

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