So Tired...

I cannot get enough sleep. I have been aiming to get in bed earlier and earlier, but no matter. Even if I am able to get 8 hours of (interrupted) sleep I wake up feeling exhausted in the morning. I have come to rely on coffee as a very real crutch to get me through the day. I am searching for something to blame this on. I don't think it is my boys -- 8 hours of sleep per night should be enough for even the hardest working mommy. I think I should just make an appointment to see a doctor. Maybe my iron is low or something. Who knows.

Memorial Day

Nearly 3,500 American Troops killed in Iraq since this war began. Take a moment today to reflect on so many lives lost. To every member of the Armed Forces currently over there sacrificing so much: Thank You.

And to my own personal Marine, I love you and I am so proud of you.

Stressed

I love my boys. I especially love holding and cuddling and loving on my little ones. But there are days, like the last two days, where these boys totally stress me out. Bun is very needy. He literally will not allow me to put him down long enough to even run to the bathroom for three minutes. When I am holding him, he is the happiest bundle of joy you have ever seen. If I set him down, he becomes The Wrath of Khan. He won't let me take care of my other son. I wouldn't dream of trying to take care of myself. Hearing two boys cry at the same time makes my blood pressure go through the roof. My Bean still has needs but Bun does not care. I have never heard a baby scream so hard just because someone put him down. Out of sheer necessity I have been forced to let him cry like this at times. I simply have no choice -- Bean is learning something new every day but there is still so much he cannot do for himself. I feel as though I have gone just a tiny bit insane, trying to keep them both contented. I lost my temper with my poor toddler today and I feel simply awful, riddled with guilt. For the very first time since being a mom of two, I have seriously longed for a break. Not a long break; I don't ask for much. All I want is 10 minutes to take a hot shower. Just long enough and just hot enough to wash my stress down the drain.

I'm A Convert

I have always been a Wal*Mart patron. To me, you just cannot beat their prices and selection. Best of all, with a Supercenter right down the street, it is literally my one-stop-shop. Or should I say: was. I am frankly tired of Wally World. Lately when I go there, the store has empty spots on the shelves (which I understand should be a no-no based on their stocking/supply model). It usually seems dingy while more and more often I leave out of there frustrated and widely unsatisfied with my purchases and my shopping experience.

The last time I needed to pick up some items I decided to go to Target. It was not my first shopping trip there by any means. However, it was my first time interviewing the store as a potential replacement for my #1 Spot To Shop. The difference between Target and Wal*Mart was like night and day. The store was so clean, well-stocked, and they just have better stuff. I never understood why people would pay a few more dollars to get essentially the same items;  but now I do. The price differential is minute compared to the increased positivity of the entire experience. I used to shake my head at the Target Snobs. I am now the newest member of their exclusive club. I even know the secret code word: "Tar-jhay".

To Single Mothers Everywhere

I commend you. You do your job unfailingly, unselfishly, and most likely to nary a thanks. Being a parent is the most difficult, most important and most rewarding job on the planet. Single mothers have no help with something of this magnitude. People ask me all the time "How do you do it?" because my hubby is currently overseas. But at least I have the comfort in knowing that he will be back to help me raise these kids at the beginning of next year. Single mothers do not have that security blanket. There are days that I get frustrated and overwhelmed, and days that I feel all alone. But I can tell myself it is only temporary and help is coming soon. I stress sometimes over the affect it will have on my children for their daddy to not be around. But then I can reason that he will be back hopefully before his absence makes a permanent impression. It's tough being both good cop/bad cop. I prefer to be the nurturer instead of the tough-as-nails piece of the parenting equation. Right now I am both, but I tell myself that soon I will be able to let Daddy be the sternest one again. A single mother does not have this luxury at all. To mothers everywhere with no help in raising your precious children, you are my hero.

Dangerous Boy Friday

I was not a dangerous kid. Growing up I was by no means athletic. I fit the description of your typical bookworm (because I have the right to not call myself a nerd on my own blog). Loved to read, teacher's pet, chubby with glasses, always picked last for the kickball team. My idea of being "daring" was attempting to climb the monkey bars -- which by the way was not successful. My back has not been right since.... I have never climbed a tree, done stunts on my bike, or even learned to roller skate. That sort of thing was just not my personal idea of fun.

So it confuses me when people complain that The Dangerous Book for Boys is..... well.... for boys. Because even though as a child I would have loved reading that book for all the great information contained within, there is no way on God's Green Earth that I would have wanted to do 90% of the things described. And I was not even a princess girly-girl. It's just that I would have much rather spent my free time reading, or writing stories and poetry as opposed to constructing a bow & arrow out of tree branches and string. But that's just me. Surely the fact that the words "FOR BOYS" is on the cover of this book does not preclude anyone from reading it, no matter your gender (or age, or race, or nationality, or anything at all). Some people just like to complain. I am willing to wager that the authors couldn't care less if a purple female alien were reading the book, so long as she was learning something and having fun in the process. Besides, what in the world could be wrong with having a target market in mind for your product?

Despite the fact that I liked to play it safe growing up, I knew plenty of Dangerous Boys and Girls. The first (and only) time I ever went fishing was when my father took me, my little brother, and my best friend along - who happens to be a girl. My friend was completely interested in the entire process, while I spent the day totally grossed out by the bait and those disgusting floppy fish with their already dead eyes. Increasingly bothered by all the dragonflies and desperately wishing to go home. It's ok for the majority of boys to have different interests from the majority of girls. The world would be a pretty boring place if we all had the same hobbies and abilities.

And for those of you who think you have to qualify to read something based solely on its title, I feel sorry for your limiting view. Good thing you're wrong, because otherwise I would have to throw out my Glamour magazine - stat!

The Dangerous Book For Boys

I have always wanted boys. Even before I was sure whether I wanted children at all, I knew that I had a strong preference for a man-child. I feel ever so lucky and blessed beyond belief to have gotten not one, but two of them! So now the question remains... What to do with these boys? Well, The Brothers Iggulden have the answer: introducing The Dangerous Book For Boys, by Conn and Hal Iggulden.

Every boy should have this book. It's just so.... random. It's set up like a how-to guide and it is chock full of a bunch of stuff that gets to the heart of what being a boy is all about. For instance, this guide will describe how to juggle, build a treehouse, play chess and soccer, tie a knot, or train a dog. It has basic information on dinosaurs, fishing, cloud formations, the solar system, astronomy, grammar, and (of course) girls. Every boy wants to know about spy codes, invisible ink and tripwires -- which are explained. Of course the authors would be remiss if they did not round this knowledge out with a little Shakespeare, Latin, and poetry. All this, and my lists do not even scratch the surface of topics covered in this book.

I cannot wait to present my sons with this guide. In a time where so many of our children want to spend their free time in front of something electronic, this book talks about the good stuff. The sorts of real things that warm and wonderful childhood memories are made of. Obviously I have never been a boy -- but no matter. As a child I would have enjoyed reading every single chapter of this book anyway. The only thing I can hope for now is that by the time my boys are old enough to become true partners in crime, there is a second or even third volume of this book on the shelves.

If you want to learn more about being "Dangerous", check out a short little video about it here. If you already know you want to buy it, I have made it easy for you; just click here. And if you want to try your hand at winning a copy try this link. There is absolutely no way you could ever regret it.

Well, Since You Asked...

My Big Boy

My Baby Boy

All My Boys

No Such Thing As Too Many

I have been accused of being a little, um, zealous when it comes to taking pics of my boys. It got me wondering how I compare to other mommies out there. So far -- I have taken 5,910 digital pictures of Bean; 1,684 pictures of Bun; and 154 of them both together. This does not count pictures of them during actual events or special occasions. It's just pretty much daily activities. Now you tell me: obsessive or the norm?

TopTen Things I Have Perfected

In the tradition of last year's post, I present to you a list of ten things I have perfected as a mom...

1. Leaving the house in clothes that are, frankly, only suited for lounging on the couch in. And feeling no embarrassment whatsoever as I complete all of my errands in that getup.
2. Wearing spit-up on said "outfit". All day.
3. Rocking maternity clothes even though I am 4 months post-partum because I want to look cute that day. And maternity is all that fits; if I want to look cute. Of course, if I do not care about looking cute there are always the lounge/errand clothes (see #1 above).
4. Anticipating, and actually being able to save the pages of a book (or my infant son's face) from a wet and fully uncovered sneeze from big brother.
5. Dressing/Undressing a child who has a sippy cup in his mouth the. entire. time.
6. Putting a little shoe in my pocket and carrying it around with me so that I can later match it to its mate -- of which I know the exact location.
7. Nursing an infant in one arm while using the other to do to virtually anything known to man.
8. Waking up the instant I hear crying from the other room (even with both doors shut) and yet somehow sleeping through the alarm that goes off right beside my head.
9. Kissing boo-boos to make them all better.
10. Expressing my unconditional love.

To all you mommies out there who have also perfected these things and more...
Happy Mother's Day!