husband

Slow Down, Mommy

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Do you ever feel like things are just moving too fast? Like you just can’t keep up the pace?   Does your “To Do” list overwhelm you? We all have legitimate things that keep our bodies and minds on the go.  I have been in that mode lately.  Add to it the crazy things happening in our world lately and it’s enough to make anyone go into hiding.   I handle it, until I just can’t anymore.  And that’s what has happened.

In a rare moment of quiet (at yoga class, which has been a challenge to get to lately) I realized the frantic pace I have been maintaining.  It took the merry-go-round stopping for me to really understand how severe my situation gets at times.  I set my intention for the class.  I decided to commit to slowing down.  I focused on my breath.  Simple.  Slow.  By the end of the class my teacher reminded us of the intention we set for ourselves at the beginning of the hour.  She urged us to try to carry that with us into the world for as long as we could.  So that is what I decided to do.  I am slowing down. This isn’t some silly lark juice fast here, but rather a serious necessity.  If I don’t slow down I will hit a wall.  And that can’t be good for me or my family.

This is not an easy thing for me to do.  My usual mode has me spinning several plates at a time while I plan my next 20 projects.  When I get over done….you can just imagine the hyper speed I am functioning at.  Or failing to function at, which is what brings about a crash.  So, anyway, the strategy is small simple steps for me.  Breathing.  Taking my time.  Doing one thing at a time (very challenging for this type A mommy).  Enjoying the moment (especially with O and my husband).  And remembering that there are things that I like to partake in, not because they have to get done, but because I enjoy doing them.

So I am making jam.  Raspberry jam from our garden.  You might laugh and think how ridiculous.  Go ahead.  I’ve made several pies already, but the jam is my favorite. It is something to savor into the autumn and winter.  It is a gift to give neighbors and friends.  And for me, this summer, it signifies my struggle to slow down.  I realized the other day that summer is half over and I don’t feel like it even started yet.  What kind of deluded fog have I been in? To say my husband and I have a lot our plates is an understatement. But it is all the more reason to slow down when we are faced with challenges.  It’s things like working in the garden.  Or listening to the rain hit the skylight.  It’s sitting on the kitchen floor reading to O in the middle of making dinner.  It’s the smell of our babies hair and the warmth of his breath when he cuddles next to us.  It’s looking into my Love’s eyes after a long day and really seeing him.  It’s letting him know without words that he is loved and safe in our relationship.  All these things require slowing down.  They take time and connection.  Without these moments of meaning, our lives are just moments that are unacknowledged.  A kind of going through the motions.

It’s funny…the older I get the clearer it becomes to me.  The moments in my life that speak out to me as defining and full of passion and truth, are the simplest ones.  I have a vivid simple memory from years ago that I look at now and know it was a defining moment.  It was years before my husband and I got married.  We were visiting as friends, and I remember him driving me in his jeep.  We were listening to music, just driving to nowhere, and he put his hand in mine.  I remember looking down and seeing our hands together and knowing that it felt so right.  I knew then, it was right.  So much in that simple quiet moment.  Life is funny like that.

So….slow it is.  For as long as I can do it.  Who knows, maybe it will become habit for me.  A way of life, even? And if I fall off the wagon, well then I’ll just have to get back up on the slow ride.  Cause it’s not just me anymore.  I have a husband and child who need me there.  Fully present.  Fully focused. And happy.  Oh yes, happy.  Covered in raspberry jam happy.

Until next time, I’ll be moving at a snail’s pace.  Keep fighting the good fight, and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up. Thank you so much for reading.  Xo

 

 

 

 

A Mother’s Day

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I’ve never been one for holidays created by greeting card companies.  Valentine’s Day is the worst.  My husband and I have vowed to never make a big deal of such a day.  We believe all our days should be reflective of our love and commitment, and not for one set day because Hallmark dictates it.  I know Mother’s Day falls under the same sort of quasi-holiday category, but I have to admit, I feel a bit different about it.  To give it equal due, I feel different about Father’s Day, too.  So hear me out.

I am not looking for what the advertisers or the media suggest I want.  There is no bauble, gadget, or knick knack I am longing for.  I don’t want all sorts of money spent on me.   I don’t want a day at the spa or a day all to myself to be pampered.  I don’t want a weekend away, a maid service to clean the whole house, or some cheesy overpriced greeting card written by some stranger.   It’s so much simpler than that.  What I would like to celebrate and have acknowledged, is the fact that I try every single day not to ruin the amazing child that by some natural miracle ended up in my care.  I’d like a Mother’s Day.

What is that you ask? Well, hold onto your yoga pants.  It’s a day where I can sleep uninterrupted for 8+ hours (without having to go to bed at 8pm the night before).  I can take a long luxurious bath instead of a quick shower.  I would be able to have a bowel movement…all by myself….in peace…uninterupted.  Without Thomas the Tank Engine.  Or whilst reading The Little Engine That Could.  It’s a day that for a whole 24 hours I am NOT the person who touches or cleans up another person’s feces.  (To be fair to my husband, he takes on the dirty diapers like a champ when he’s around.)  And, most importantly, it’s a day that my husband showers me with words of encouragement and love from his heart.  Oh, and he makes me breakfast, lunch and dinner. Now these last two requests actually happen on a regular basis in our home, but they are such a nice part of our day that it only makes sense to include them.

Now I realize that as simple as this day seems in theory, the actual execution of these requests may prove more than difficult.  (Lucky for me, my husband is a rock star!) But, perhaps it might seem impossible for some mates.  Hence, the bauble or some fancy high priced item.  The mate thinks, “how can she be upset with me if I give her _______?” And she won’t be.  I mean who gets mad at jewelry or a Coach bag?  The retailers are surely happy.  Hubby is happy because he dodged a mega parenting bullet.  But most likely, it isn’t what she truly wants on this day.  If she is anything like me, it most certainly is not.

So Hallmark, Zales, Pandora and all you other retailers and tall tale fabricators….you aren’t on my radar.  I could care less about what you have to offer.  I don’t know that any woman who stays home everyday with her toddler really wants what you are peddling. As I looked around the library today at story time, I saw the faces of other mothers that seemed to need what I am in need of.   We all most likely just want to remember who we actually are.  To have a moment to acknowledge our own worth unattached to the non stop job of caregiving.  To have a few moments to think of/and for ourselves, all the while knowing that our most precious possession is being cared for by our most precious partner.   It’s that simple.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight.  And remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Hope you get to have a rockin Mother’s Day.  Xo thanks for reading!

P.S. I Can’t Do It All

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As if I needed to declare this.  As if I assumed you thought otherwise….Nope.  It is most official.  I CANNOT do it all.  There are some things better left to others….anyone else, to be frank.  I have experienced an epic fail today in my quest for home improvement/beautification.  It is an important lesson I have learned.  Me, drills and drywall don’t mix.  I should stay far far away from anything having to do with said drywall.  In my effort to surprise my husband by hanging a hand towel rack in our newly renovated master bath, I have created a bigger headache for him than having to install it in the first place.  I know he hates hanging things, especially towel racks, etc.  I thought, “how hard could it be?”  Well, apparently for me, it’s pretty freakin hard.  There is now a hole the size of a small coin and a drywall anchor that has pushed through the wall with the screw still attached….what a mess.  I have given up trying to rectify the situation, as every time I attempt, the problem (and hole) gets bigger.  Oye.

If there is one thing that really irks me, it’s when I can’t do something.  I’m now feeling like a total failure.  If I had potato chips I’d be chomping on the big bag trying to crunch out my frustrations.  Instead, I downed 2 Oreos.  So not the same.  As I begin to come to my senses and get over myself, I wipe the crumbs from my face and realize there is another lesson to be learned here beyond staying away from drills and drywall.

Perhaps we are not meant to be able to do everything.  If you think about it, isn’t that how the best partnerships are born? People who complement each other in their talents and skills.  Well, that’s my husband.  He’s the ying to my yang…or the yang to my ying…either way, you get what I’m saying.  We are so opposite in so many ways….but yet we are aligned perfectly when it comes to important things like love and family.

Maybe it’s ok that I don’t possess the strength and skills to use a power drill effectively.  Because he’s pretty great at it.  I think it’s good that I have patience for the tedious projects in the house (like painting the woodwork) because he doesn’t.  I have no doubt there is some woman out there who is able to put a drywall anchor and screw in just fine.  Power to her! It’s just not me.  So perhaps I’m blowing smoke up my own tush, trying to make myself feel better for my failure.   Maybe I’m the only woman on earth who can’t seem to handle this seemingly easy task.  Whatever the case may be, I like being the ying to his yang.  I like compromising.  I like meeting him half way.  I like knowing there are things he can do better than me.  And in turn, there are things I do better than him.  I like being part of a partnership.  I like keeping each other in line.  I like being accountable to someone else.  Who’d have thunk?

So there you have it.  My epic fail has evolved into a revelation of gratitude.  My craving for chips has passed.  Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Xo

At The End Of The Rainbow

 

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As I sit here sipping my morning coffee I am filled with a feeling of contentment and gratitude.  It’s  quiet moments like this in our home that allow me to reflect on the blessings bestowed upon us.  Yeah, I am also making a grocery list in my head and thinking about how I will accomplish one of my DIY home projects today….but for the most part, I’m just acknowledging how grateful I am.

You see, I am a type A personality, if you couldn’t tell already.  I have this hyper gene in my makeup that makes me think I can do everything…all at once.  It is hard for me to relax and do nothing.  (It seems like such a waste!). But I am reminded, it seems by everyone, that it is, indeed, important to sometimes do just that.  Nothing.  At least to slow down.

I am going to share something that will no doubt make my haters hate me even more.  And that’s fine with me.  I have the best husband/partner in the Universe.  To say, “in the world”  doesn’t seem enough.  He is constantly reminding me to take in the simple things.  The little moments that I would have most likely trampled over on my way to Home Depot.  The instances that turn into moments that create memories that define our lives.  For instance,  one night this summer he set a blanket out on the lawn so we could lay on it and watch the shooting stars.  We saw like 10! The other night, he actually set an alarm (because we struggle to stay up past 9pm) so we could go outside and watch the super lunar eclipse.  I would have slept right through it.  It was spectacular.

Several weeks ago he showed me something that I seem to keep revisiting because it was THAT awesome.  Evenings this summer we would take O to the playground that is near our house.  He adores it.  On this particular night we were there for only about 10 minutes and the sky started to spit raindrops.  We went for cover under the pirate ship, as we were sure it was only a quick sun shower.  Then it started to really pour.  Even the plastic rendition of the Black Pearl couldn’t  keep us dry. We decided to make a run for the car and head home.  As we turned towards to parking lot we saw a huge rainbow.  It took us by surprise.  We scurried over to the car and Ian said, “Let’s find the end of the rainbow!”  I was like, “Seriously?”  “We’re gonna get soaked.” He looked at me with THAT look and said,   “We’re already soaked.”

So off we ran into the baseball field towards the rainbow’s end.  With our child in tow, like children ourselves.  O loved getting wet.  He squealed with absolute delight.  We stopped somewhere in right field and realized the end of the rainbow was Us.  We were standing right where it ended.  We were our own pot of gold!  If that’s not a God-wink, I don’t know what is.  The point is, I would have gotten into the car and drove home,  never seeing the amazing metaphor that now describes our life to me. It is my great fortune to be blessed with a partner who wants to lay under the stars and run in the rain.  Now, of course there are other facets to my dear husband.  He isn’t romping through the daffodils everyday and while he is an optimist, he has never worn a pair of rose colored glasses.  But time and time again he shows me what is truly important.

There is a scene in the classic film, Its A Wonderful Life, where George Bailey is sitting outside his Mother’s house while his brother’s engagement party is going on.  Ma Bailey comes out and tells him Mary Hatch is home from college and he should call on her.  She says of Mary, “She’s the kind of girl who’ll help you find the answers, George.”  I always loved that scene.  Who knew the answers involved such simple wonderful things? Like the laugh of our child, starry nights and a partner who shows me what’s at the end of the rainbow.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up! Xo

 

Choose Your Husband Well

In honor of Father’s Day and my amazing husband and baby Daddy, I decided to repost this love letter of sorts to my beloved. He is truly awesome. I honestly didn’t know just how wonderful he would be at this parenting thing. He surprises and delights me on a daily basis. From washing bottles to the love and gentle care he gives to both Little O and I every single day….he is Father of the Year in our eyes. Thank you, my love, for choosing to share this wonderful life with us. Xo

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It seems like it is just common sense. Choose your husband well. ?? Really, aren’t we ALL trying to do that when we choose a mate? But the criteria for a good husband is different than the criteria for a good father…or is it? Now, I have dated a fair share of men in past. And since I am “older” I have dated a good deal more than perhaps your normal 20 or 30 something year old has. Now, as I know my mother and mother-in-law read this blog, I will try to leave out the tawdry details. But let’s say, for good measure, that I have been around. I was never your one night stand girl at all. I had lasting relationships with several men. The WRONG men. I guess they served their purpose for that time in my life, but still WRONG. And when I say that, they could have certainly been RIGHT for someone. Just not me. I met my now husband over 10 years ago. Now you all know that he is a good deal younger than me. (11 years). So now imagine, 10+ years ago…..he was a boy. Was he marriage material? NO! Of course not. But did he have the makings of a man who would be not only an amazing husband, but a more amazing father? You bet he did. I am just lucky enough that he stuck it out and waited for me to come to my senses.

So what is this criteria I think so important for the ideal mate? Note, I don’t say perfect, because there is no such thing. In fact, faults are part of the charm. So don’t knock them. And realize that YOU, yes YOU, have faults too. It’s part of owning who you are in a real adult relationship. I truly believe the number one thing to look for in a mate is a kind heart. I knew my now husband possessed this rare feature on about day three of meeting him. And it is still at the core of his being. It is inherently who he is. Kind. Sometimes, it is to his chagrin. But he is truly Kind.

The second thing would be Honesty. How many of us can really truly say we are with someone we can absolutely trust with our life? I have NEVER been with another man that I could say that about. In fact, with several, I knew it to be quite the opposite. I mean, I am sure they would have tried to save me from a burning building (you know, to keep up appearances), but they would most likely have shagged two women on the way up and a set of twins on the way down. The thing is, I knew this about these men. Somewhere, somehow, I knew. They were self absorbed, unavailable, unwilling to truly commit to something other than themselves and unaware of what they truly wanted from life. In flux, you could say. Caught in a kind of Peter Pan vortex.

My husband knew exactly what he wanted when I met him. Regardless of the fact that he was too young to make those things happen, he was firm and committed to having the life that he imagined. He wanted to be married. (To me, lucky for me). And he wanted a family. Now again, lucky for me, his want for me in his life, trumped the want for a family…because who knew at the time of our commitment, if I would be able to give him children ?? He sure didn’t. But in all his youth, he understood that WHO you choose as your partner, should you choose to have a partner, makes all the difference to the life you will live. Add a baby to the mix and your choice of partner becomes an even more profound thing.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. People who raise a child on their own are truly amazing. I seriously don’t know HOW they do it. Sharing this journey with my husband is half the fun of it. Someone who understands my fierce unconditional LOVE for this little creature, because HE feels it too. It’s another level of connection we now share. The idea of it is quite awesome! WE created this child! This amazing, beautiful, fantastic child!! And no one thinks that about him like WE do. To us, he is perfect (even though there is no such thing). He is EVERYTHING. He is the best parts of both of us (and even our not so great parts, but hey who’s looking?). He is our celebration of our love for each other! I mean, how do you share all of that with someone who is unavailable? Someone who is afraid of truly being loved? I don’t know. Maybe it’s possible?? I know plenty of women, married to men who are just not “there.” Guys who aren’t at peace being the husband and father. Guys who are always chasing a skirt to somehow elude their mortality….??? As I re read this, I can see the cynicism. But, I am old enough not to bullshit you.

To truly enjoy this journey of being a parent, you MUST have a partner who is with you 110%. Someone who is just as jazzed about it as you. Who is just as tired and fried, but who picks you up after a long day of “fussy baby” antics. The guy who at 4am, says “I’ve got it babe.” They guy who takes the baby out on Saturday mornings to give you some “Me” time. The guy who still looks at you like you are the most beautiful women he’s ever seen….even with spit up on your shirt and no makeup on your face. He’s got your back…and there is no doubt that he will always have it. I’ve never enjoyed that level of “no doubt.” It’s pretty wonderful. I highly recommend it. But then, that’s what this whole post is about. Choose your partner well, friends. Choose him well.

Until next time, keep up the good fight. And remember, behind every great kid, is a mom who is sure she is messing it up. Thanks for reading! xo

Motherhood and Mortality

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Not all that long ago, I used to tell my husband, I thought I would die on the young side of old.  The notion never ever bothered me.  I can actually say I was really ok with it.  I have always been a big believer of things happening for a reason.  I guess it was just a silly gut feeling I had and I was at peace with it.  Then something happened….I had my son.

To say I feel differently now is an understatement.  And the reasons are layered and complex.  I am sometimes hit with the fear of “Oh my God! What if something happens to me and O is left alone?” Well, it’s already ridiculous, because he would not be alone. He would have my husband.  His father.  The person on this earth who loves him as fiercely as I do.   But every child needs his Mother, right? Or is it the other way around? Now that I have him…now that I have tasted this kind of love…I don’t think I could live without it.  I need him as completely as he needs me.  Maybe more so.

The completely irrational and borderline crazy mourning of my own inevitable passing I experience at times,  is about MY missing out.  I don’t want to miss a single second of this brilliant journey.  Being an older Mom just emphasizes the fear.  I don’t need to be sidled with an untimely death.  Just dying in the normal course of life will leave me missing a chunk of O’s journey.   If he waits to have children like I did, I’ll be 84  if I am lucky enough to meet my newborn grandchildren.  Certainly too old to watch them grow up.  It’s depressing really.  Geez.  Right now my husband is rolling his eyes.  He wasn’t thrilled with this week’s topic of choice.  He likes it when  I write about rainbows and unicorns.  Lol.

The other night, I started to get worked up over it all. I completely freaked my husband out.  I had just read an article that stated 1 out of 2 women and 1 out  of 3 men  will get cancer.  Most survive, but no one lives forever.  I started to feel consumed by a loss that didn’t even happen yet? A loss that,  most likely, would not happen for a very long time.  And when that time does come, and my number is up, so to speak, I won’t experience the loss, cause I’m the one who will be gone.  But I guess that really depends on your beliefs on the afterlife.  I’m completely certifiable.  See how your thoughts can snowball?  It’s complex, right?

After researching some other articles, I realize that I’m not alone in these thoughts.  In fact, I’m on the sane side of “cray cray.”   I read a post by a women who was encouraging parents to document their lives (video, photos, etc.) for their children to have when they are gone…”before it is too late”….(Geez).   It is called intentional memory making.  There is even an app for it!  I mean, I get it.   When my husband’s father passed away, he had heaps of recordings of his father singing.  It helped him grieve.  And even now, almost four years later, it helps him feel closer to his dad.  But his father was a professional singer/songwriter.  These memories were made by his father simply living his life doing what he loved.  It’s a bit different than intentionally documenting everything.  I take my fair share of photos, I do.  And it is fun to go back and reminisce, but I don’t know.  I don’t want to judge what others want to do.  So..what do I do?

Well, I can’t change the fact that I am, indeed, an older mom.  I can try to keep myself healthy, but even that is no guarantee.  In fact, that’s exactly it…..we have no guarantees of the time we have here.  No telling when our time is up.  So acceptance seems paramount.  Acceptance and gratitude.  Gratitude for all we are experiencing in the NOW.  I can try not to waste days, but I’m sure there will be a few days, at least,  lost to complaining, or stress, or both.  I’m only human.  But I don’t want to spend moments constantly behind a camera lens…hovering on the outside of our experiences for the sake of documenting them.  Nor do I want to feel every moment has the cloud of mourning hanging over it…even if it is hanging somewhere in the back of our mind, it’s still there, stealing from our NOW.  Our perfect NOW.

As with everything, balance is key.  So I’ll mix my neurosis with some healthy belly laughing and get on with this awesome second act of my life.  (Did I mention my life is a play in Three Acts?) I guess when it’s all said and done, I can say I have tasted pure true love.  I have experienced real joy.  I feel like I know what heaven truly is.  And maybe I’ll find an old shoe box and occasionally put some photos in it and write some love letters to the sweetest boy I’ll ever know, my little O.

Until next time, keep on keeping on…and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is certain she is screwing it up!

Choose Your Husband Well

In honor of Father’s Day and my amazing husband and baby Daddy, I decided to repost this love letter of sorts to my beloved.  He is truly awesome.  I honestly didn’t know just how wonderful he would be at this parenting thing.  He surprises and delights me on a daily basis.  From washing bottles to the love and gentle care he gives to both Little O and I every single day….he is Father of the Year in our eyes.  Thank you, my love, for choosing to share this wonderful life with us.  Xo

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It seems like it is just common sense.  Choose your husband well.  ?? Really, aren’t we ALL trying to do that when we choose a mate?  But the criteria for a good husband is different than the criteria for a good father…or is it?  Now, I have dated a fair share of men in past. And since I am “older” I have dated a good deal more than perhaps your normal 20 or 30 something year old has.  Now, as I know my mother and mother-in-law read this blog, I will try to leave out the tawdry details.  But let’s say, for good measure, that I have been around.  I was never your one night stand girl at all.  I had lasting relationships with several men.  The WRONG men.  I guess they served their purpose for that time in my life, but still WRONG.  And when I say that, they could have certainly been RIGHT for someone.  Just not me.   I met my now husband over 10 years ago.  Now you all know that he is a good deal younger than me.  (11 years).  So now imagine, 10+ years ago…..he was a boy.  Was he marriage material?  NO! Of course not.  But did he have the makings of a man who would be not only an amazing husband, but a more amazing father?  You bet he did.  I am just lucky enough that he stuck it out and waited for me to come to my senses.

So what is this criteria I think so important for the ideal mate?  Note, I don’t say perfect, because there is no such thing.  In fact, faults are part of the charm.  So don’t knock them.  And realize that YOU, yes YOU, have faults too.  It’s part of owning who you are in a real adult relationship.  I truly believe the number one thing to look for in a mate is a kind heart.  I knew my now husband possessed this rare feature on about day three of meeting him.  And it is still at the core of his being.  It is inherently who he is.  Kind.  Sometimes, it is to his chagrin. But he is truly Kind.

The second thing would be Honesty.  How many of us can really truly say we are with someone we can absolutely trust with our life?  I have NEVER been with another man that I could say that about.  In fact, with several, I knew it to be quite the opposite.  I mean, I am sure they would have tried to save me from a burning building (you know, to keep up appearances), but they would most likely have shagged two women on the way up and a set of twins on the way down.  The thing is,  I knew this about these men.  Somewhere, somehow, I knew.  They were self absorbed, unavailable, unwilling to truly commit to something other than themselves and unaware of what they truly wanted from life.  In flux, you could say. Caught in a kind of Peter Pan vortex.

My husband knew exactly what he wanted when I met him.  Regardless of the fact that he was too young to make those things happen, he was firm and committed to having the life that he imagined.  He wanted to be married.  (To me, lucky for me).  And he wanted a family.  Now again, lucky for me, his want for me in his life, trumped the want for a family…because who knew at the time of our commitment, if I would be able to give him children ??  He sure didn’t.  But in all his youth, he understood that WHO you choose as your partner, should you choose to have a partner,  makes all the difference to the life you will live.  Add a baby to the mix and your choice of partner becomes an even  more profound thing.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.  People who raise a child on their own are truly amazing.  I seriously don’t know HOW they do it.  Sharing this journey with my husband is half the fun of it.  Someone who understands my fierce unconditional LOVE for this little creature, because HE feels it too.  It’s another level of connection we now share.  The idea of it is quite awesome!  WE created this child! This amazing, beautiful, fantastic child!!  And no one thinks that about him like WE do.  To us, he is perfect (even though there is no such thing).  He is EVERYTHING.  He is the best parts of both of us (and even our not so great parts, but hey who’s looking?).  He is our celebration of our love for each other!  I mean, how do you share all of that with someone who is unavailable?  Someone who is afraid of truly being loved?  I don’t know.   Maybe it’s possible?? I know plenty of women, married to men who are just not “there.” Guys who aren’t at peace being the husband and father.  Guys who are always chasing a skirt to somehow elude their mortality….??? As I re read this, I can see the cynicism. But, I am old enough not to bullshit you.

To truly enjoy this journey of being a parent, you MUST have a partner who is with you 110%.  Someone who is just as jazzed about it as you.  Who is just as tired and fried, but who picks you up after a long day of “fussy baby” antics.   The guy who at 4am, says “I’ve got it babe.”  They guy who takes the baby out on Saturday mornings to give you some “Me” time.  The guy who still looks at you like you are the most beautiful women he’s ever seen….even with spit up on your shirt and no makeup on your face.  He’s got your back…and there is no doubt that he will always have it.  I’ve never enjoyed that level of “no doubt.”  It’s pretty wonderful.  I highly recommend it.  But then, that’s what this whole post is about.  Choose your partner well, friends.  Choose him well.

Until next time, keep up the good fight.  And remember, behind every great kid, is a mom who is sure she is messing it up.  Thanks for reading! xo