What Next??

Well, dear reader, life has been very hectic since I last wrote. I worked on painting the house every chance I could for weeks. Then the worst happened. We discovered the house has a brown recluse spider infestation. I can't help but ask God "WHY??" After all the trouble we went through to get the house, the one thing that God knows I hate and cannot deal with. My parent's house was infested with them years ago. It took TWO YEARS to finally get rid of them. It was horrible. I DO NOT want to willingly go into a situation like that. Instead of hiring a professional exterminator to take care of the little nasties, my husband thinks he can do it himself. I am worried, however, that even if we were able to get rid of all the spiders, will I ever rest peacefully in that house? We have been desperately praying for guidance, for we don't know what to do. We have considered selling the house. Some people honestly are not that bothered by spiders (personally, I don't get it). So I suppose we are waiting for God to slap us upside the head with the answer. In the meantime, I have unpacked my boxes, and I have taken measures to make the house we live in as pleasant as possible.
A possible choice came to us just last week. A certain piece of land came up for sale that my husband has had his eye on. It's right across the street from my in-laws (joy, joy!) but it is a very pretty 40 acres. It even has a pond. The price is unbelievably cheap! My husband and I have pondered- is this what we are supposed to do? Were we never meant to live in the house we took such great pains to buy, and the Lord sent the spiders to keep us out? I mean, He knows how I feel about brown recluse spiders! It's not as though we would lose out if we sold the house- Phillip is quite confident that we can make our money back, plus a good sum. Anyway... praying and waiting...

Roller Coaster Ride

I suppose my dear readers are wondering what has happened with the buying of the house. The whole affair has been an emotional roller coaster. We made the first bid on the property the first week of May. My husband Phillip went to Traditions Bank and decided to apply for an FHA loan so that he only had to put 3% down. One would think that, with his excellent credit and considerable equity, he would have no trouble getting a loan. The bank, or should I say the bank's underwriter, Synovus, was... difficult, to put it gracefully. Synovus made ridiculous demands about the condition of the house we are purchasing- even though we have no power to make those improvements since the house is not yet ours! For example, the first time we tried to close, the bank didn't let it go through because they wanted an attic inspection- on a house with a vaulted ceiling! I mean, good grief! Do they have rocks for brains?? I think that they still don't understand what a vaulted ceiling is. Phillip was granted an extension on the contract for the second time. Our real estate agent, Kay Whaley, (who I love- she's the best ever!) warned us that the seller may not allow us to extend the contract a third time if we did not close by July 23. One thing after another led us to believe that it was never going to happen. I prayed for God's Will, even though I wanted the house badly. I finally resigned myself to the fact that we were not going to get the house, and told myself that God was protecting us from something horrible- faulty wiring, or foundation problems, etc. Then, Kay called Friday afternoon (the day the contract expired) and said to be at the lawyer's office at 3:00- we were going to close! So, I dragged my three ruffians out and met Phillip at the lawyer's office. The lawyer sat us down and explained that Synovus had another hangup regarding the driveway. The driveway is shared by our intended home and the neighbor, and it is actually mostly on the neighbor's property. I didn't exactly understand what it was Synovus wanted, all I knew was there was not a scrap of paper on the table for us to sign. As the lawyer spoke, understanding dawned on me, and I saw red. I blurted out, "So, what you're saying is, we showed up here for nothing?" Phillip thought I was going to come unglued. He later told me that, at that moment, he feared I was going to jump across the table and strangle the lawyer. He quickly reminded me that it wasn't the lawyer's fault, and I shouldn't take it out on him. I had to fight tears, I was so angry. Phillip left the lawyer's office and went to Traditions Bank to "jerk a knot in someone's a**". He asked to see the bank's president, Tim Compton. Phillip told him about our troubles, and his opinion that the issue needed to be escalated to higher-up people. Phillip said Mr. Compton was very nice, and not at all condescending. Mr. Compton told Phillip that if the FHA loan didn't go through again, he would personally go look at the property himself, and if it made sense to him, he would make sure we got the loan! Phillip explained that he was frustrated that he had left work early to go to a closing that didn't happen, and as a result, lost money. Mr. Compton walked out of the room, and returned with $300 that he gave to Phillip. He said, "This should make up for it. If you make more than that in an afternoon, you have an excellent job." He explained that Traditions is trying to win more checking accounts, and he wanted to win us back. I believe he is well on his way. The seller did allow us to extend the contract for a third time, and we finally closed today! The house is now ours! I feel like I need to pop open a bottle of champagne and celebrate! (Actually, I will, since I have to make a champagne cake for a customer!) As a result of our ordeal, I think we will really appreciate and enjoy our new home. Now, the work begins!

Bathsheba

I was at the grocery store yesterday when I noticed a family walking in together. They caught my eye because the two little girls in this family were absolutely gorgeous. They had long, blonde, curly hair, and cute little pixie faces. What broke my heart, however, was that those sweet little angels were dressed like hookers. Short shorts and halter tops. I was so upset that I actually had to choke back tears. Why do parents see nothing wrong with dressing their daughters like tramps? I mean, do they actually think it's cute? I remember a day not so long ago when I came home with a bunch of clothes that I honestly thought were cute- shorts, tank tops, tight jeans- you know, what most girls wear these days. My daddy sat me down and had a talk with me about how men's minds work- ewww. I was horrified. Needless to say, I returned every bit of it and came back home with clothes more befitting a lady. At the time, I thought my parents were just being sticks-in-the-mud, but now I realize that they were trying to protect me, and I am grateful for it. They taught me that modesty is important, that is does matter how you present yourself. I hear things all the time like: "It's my body, I can dress it how I want." or "If guys want to look at me, that's their problem." or "It doesn't matter what I wear. It's what's on the inside that counts." Yes, my dear, that is true. But when you look like a bad girl, people are going to treat you like a bad girl. If you think for one minute God is not going to hold you accountable for all those men you caused to lust, you've lied to yourself. I became convinced of this years ago- probably not long after my daddy gave me "the talk"- when I came across an article called "The Sin of Bathsheba". You can read it at this link: http://www.momof9splace.com/sinof.html

I hope this article has helped my dear readers to understand my reasons for trying to dress modestly. Admittedly, I have been careless and worn some things I'm not proud of, but I do try to dress in a manner that would please God. That is not to say it is not difficult. I struggle with dressing modestly all the time. I wonder "Why me? Why do I have to know that I should dress modestly? Why can't I be like everyone else and just wear a cute top and jeans? Why do I have to be different?" Just because you dress modestly does not mean you have to dress like Laura Ingalls. You can be "in style" and still dress modestly. You just have to shop carefully, and be honest with yourself when you try things on. Ask yourself, "If I was meeting God today, would I feel appropriately dressed in this?" If you need a place to start, visit my friends' store, Pansy Anne's: http://www.etsy.com/shop/pansyannes

Babies Don't Keep

Just in case anyone was wondering, we still have not closed on our new house. The loaning bank we are dealing with is being impossible. Hopefully next week the house will finally be ours- after that, I fear the sellers will want to move on to greener, less time-consuming pastures.

On a lighter note, a few weeks ago, my sweet Alice started sitting up and crawling, all at once. A few days later, she started pulling herself up and standing while holding onto the coffee table or a chair. A couple weeks ago, she said "Dada"; then, a few days after that, "Mama" (we decided her first word was really "Hey!"). It saddens me to see my baby girl growing up so fast. My mom reminded me just the other night about a plaque she used to have. I looked it up on the Internet, and I want to share it with my dear readers:

I hope that my child, looking back on today

Will remember a mother who had time to play;

Because children grow up while you're not looking,

There are years ahead for cleaning and cooking.

So, quiet now cobwebs, dust go to sleep.

I'm nursing my baby, and babies don't keep.

I am so grateful to my mom for reminding me of it. I have been so caught up in all the cares that life brings that I often forget that my babies are growing up all too quickly, and soon they will leave me. When I am dead and gone, no one will remember me for the clean house I kept or the delicious cakes I baked. But maybe my children will remember me for always being willing to drop whatever I was doing to tend to their wants and needs, and for taking time out of my busy days just to play and read books.

Buying a House

The Campbell family is in the process of buying a new home. I am just tickled pink! It is the perfect compromise to our housing dilemma of what, where, or how to build. Phillip and I were fighting almost every day about the building of a house- we couldn't agree on anything! I never realized how different our decorating tastes are. He likes anything that screams "TESTOSTERONE", and I like everything simple but elegant. Just look at a Pottery Barn catalog, and you will see how I like to decorate; although, I have never even bought anything from Pottery Barn. I look through the catalog and find what I like, then I try to find something similar on eBay or something- tricksie, I am! Anyway, so there we were arguing back and forth about building a house, and my husband runs into a friend at the grocery store, who tells him that his in-laws old house was foreclosed on, and was now for sale. So we thought, what the heck, lets go look at it. We went to go see it, and I FELL IN LOVE! It is so perfect in so many ways. I loved the house for itself, and my husband loves it because it is about 1.5 miles from his parents. We are still working on the particulars of buying the house, so we don't yet have a closing date set. Hopefully it won't be too long before we move in!
The prospect of moving to a new home has me in FLY-ing mode! I have already been packing up some things I don't use very often, and I am accumulating things to have a nice big moving sale. (Because the junk is NOT going with us, one way or another!!) I was letting the de-cluttering get in the way of normal housework, but now I have everything under control again. It is so fabulous to have a shiny sink, no dirty dishes, dinner in the crock-pot, the laundry caught up, the bathrooms clean, and the rest of the house in ship-shape! Now, if only I can teach Fidelis his ABCs and 123s, my day will be complete! Maybe that's aiming too high.... well, my hubby should be very proud of me, anyway. He is really a very simple man- as long as the housework stays under control, he really doesn't ask for much else. Hopefully one of these days I will have housework down to a science.
On a similar note, I have been having the boys do chores every day. They are at the age right now that they actually want to help, so I let them, when I can. Fidelis' jobs have been folding washcloths (which he does perfectly, I might add), and emptying out the laundry hampers. Marcellus' job is to take a Clorox wipe and wipe the floor. I have also started making the boys wipe up any messes they make, and pick up all their toys.

Poor, Poor Blog

My poor, neglected blog! I have been caught up in so many things, I haven't had the time to take care of you! I have been busy with the children, of course. I have had drama coming out my ears. I have been working 2 or 3 at-home jobs, trying to make money to fix up the house we are buying. I have been very tired- today is the first day in a couple weeks that I have been able to drag myself out of bed at a decent time. I have fallen off the FlyLady bandwagon. My house is a wreck. But, I will try to do better. "After all, tomorrow is another day!"

Positive Reinforcement

I used to think "Super Nanny" was a left-wing bonkazoid with her behavior charts. I am now a believer in this sort of positive reinforcement. My husband has a saying that goes something like: "A behavior that is rewarded is a behavior that will be repeated." My eldest is four years old, and I just recently got him potty-trained. I had tried every trick I could think of. I am ashamed to admit that we even tried punishment. "The New Dare to Discipline" by Dr. James Dobson told me that was a HUGE mistake. He said that parents should NEVER use punishment where potty-training is concerned, for the fact of how far it can set the child back in actually learning to properly potty-train. He also said that it can affect the child's mind as well, causing major repercussions where academia and social skills are concerned. All I have to say is "Oops!" and, "I have tried my hardest to make up for it!" I read further in "Dare to Discipline" about the use of a chart-and-reward system that made good sense. So, I went to our local school supply store and bought a packet of cute little charts and some gold star stickers. I explained to Fidelis that he was a big boy, and needed to wear underwear. I told him we were not going to use pull-ups anymore, and I knew he could go potty every time. I further explained that for every day he didn't have any accidents, he would get to put a sticker on his chart; and then, when he filled up his chart, we would go to the zoo. I am delighted to report complete success. From the very first day, he has worn underwear, and has never had an accident. His chart is now full, and we are planning a trip to the zoo as soon as Daddy is back to being off on weekends. I plan to use charts from now on in order to encourage a desired behavior from my children.

Daily Routines and Listmaking.

It's amazing how much more sane one becomes with a set routine. I have read from several sources recently that daily routines are essential for a child, especially toddlers, and most especially, boys. When my children are older, I plan to fashion printed routines for them as well.I have been in routine limbo for over a month while my husband has been on night shift. But there is light at the end of the tunnel! He should be back on a normal schedule this week! Hooray! In view of that fact, I have printed up my routine in a pretty font with a picture that makes me happy just by looking at it. (You should have things like that scattered through out your home by the way- things that make you smile. Makes life less dreary.) For purposes of inspiring you to create your own routine, here is mine:

Daily Routine

1. Wake up, pray, make the bed.
2. Wash up, makeup, hair, get dressed.
3. Wipe down bathrooms.
4. Empty dishwasher.
5. Wash, dry, fold, & put away one load of laundry.
6. Dress kids, feed them breakfast.
7. What’s for dinner? (clean up as you go)
8. Chore of the day (let children help).
9. Playtime and school!
10. Lunch, then nap/ quiet time.
11. Declutter for 15 minutes.
12. Free/ “working” time.
13. Dinner- then shine your sink!
14. Kids- bathe, brush teeth, story time, prayers, bed.
15. Hot Spots for 2 minutes.
16. Exercise for 20 minutes.
17. Lay out clothes for tomorrow.
18. Shower, brush teeth, pampering, bed!


Maybe I am slightly retarded, but I can function much better when I can see on paper what it is I need to do. I keep running lists of things I need to do, places I need to go, etc. As a mother of three children, I can only remember so much at one time, so it is best that I write things down. I have forgotten so many things because I tried to rely on the strength of my memory- not smart. Most of the time I just write things I need to remember on whatever stray piece of paper happens to be within striking range, but it would be nice to have a pretty notepad to write on (another thing to make you smile). I saw some adorable clipboards with matching paper at Hobby Lobby the other day- just you wait until they have 40% off coupons on their website again!

Fidelis' Birthday Cake

I'm pretty proud of this cake I made for Fidelis' 3rd birthday. It was my third Topsy-turvy cake, and the first one that didn't fall apart. You can see here my Fidelis and my Daddy.


Notice the Route 66 sign...

Cactus, roads, clouds, grass.. I went all out. That is how a Mater Truck cake is done, Mr. Cake Boss!

Identity Issues

Lately I have been having an identity crisis. I often ask myself: "Who are you? Why are you still here? What do you want people to remember you for when you die? I want so badly to make my children into wonderful people, but how can I do that if I don't even know who I am?" I sometimes feel like I get lost in the daily whirl of meals, cleaning and diapers. At times I can't even hear myself think. When you are plunged into a deep depression on top of everything, then other problems on top of even that, you really start to wonder how far The Big Guy is going to push you.
Just when I think life couldn't possibly get any worse, I have one of those "AHA!" moments. Sometimes it comes from something I'm reading or watching, sometimes from a friend, and sometimes even from myself. So after days of soul-searching, here is what I have come up with:
I realize that all I want out of life is to be surrounded by people who care about me, and know that I care about them.
When I am gone, I want people to say that I was friendly, generous, and that my children turned out wonderful.
I am a wife, mother, sister, daughter, granddaughter, niece, aunt and professional whatever-I-want-to-be-this-year.
I am a fierce friend to those that appreciate me, and I am willing to help anyone in need.
I have decided I love my husband, and I will bend over backwards to please him. He takes good care of me, and what we have is worth fighting for. Every day.
Screw the old ghosts and the traitors.
My children are my legacy, they are why I am still here. I am the one who is going to make quite sure they turn out right.
I am going to live every day like it's my last, but I will dream like I'm going to live forever.

I Feel Weird

Have you ever "just had a bad feeling"? The past several days I have had this strange, foreboding sense that something awful is going to happen. It's really starting to affect me physically too. I am tired all the time no matter how much coffee I drink, and my stomach stays in constant knots. I am on the edge of bursting into to tears at any second. Maybe it's the stress of my husband being on night shift, the weird schedule, worrying about him getting enough sleep, etc. I don't know. All I know is I feel weird. What makes me nervous is that I have a very keen sense of knowing (a.k.a. "sixth sense"), that has rarely let me down. Very often I have predicted things that came true. I usually don't tell people when I have one of these "insights", because I don't want them to think I am a freak. I am certainly not saying I believe in fortune telling or any of that evil stuff- I do think perhaps it could be my guardian angel whispering things in my ear. I have never felt this physically drained as a result of a "bad feeling" before though. I am going to go kiss my boys goodnight and then use my baby girl for a teddy bear- maybe a good night's sleep will make me feel better.

Pat Me on the Back!

My Saturday did not start off with a bang. I lazed around all morning watching "Life After People" on the History Channel. My husband somehow got a notion to start cleaning out the garage. He kept coming in the house making remarks like, "You ought to come outside.", "It sure is pretty out.". I just ignored him, because I didn't feel like going out. Plus, my boys were happily playing outside, so I was enjoying a bit of peace inside. Finally, Phillip came in and said something to the effect of, "I've been working all this time. What are you going to do today, just loaf around?" Whatever it was he said, it ticked me off. So I strapped Alice into the stroller, and pushed her into the garage. I had tons of boxes to go through. I had been planning for a long time to have a garage sale. But I thought to myself: "You know, I have been holding onto so much of this stuff thinking I will sell it or I will need it some day. You know what? I most likely won't need it, and I will never take the time to price all of this stuff for a yard sale. So I will go through it, only keep the stuff I know I will need. I will save the big items for the Kid's Mart or the consignment shop. The rest, I will bless someone else with. Even though I would like the money that would come from those things, I will just offer it up as a Lenten penance." I worked from about 1:00 until 6:30, and I went through every box that was mine in the garage. I threw away about two garbage bags full of trash, and I filled 18 bags with things to give away. R-I-D-I-C-U-L-O-U-S!! Just think of all that crammed into my two-car garage!!! The things I wanted to keep I put in their proper totes or put them away in the house. After a little more work, I will finally be able to park my Jeep in the garage! I feel so liberated without all that junk! Thank you FlyLady for giving me the know-how and encouragement I needed to finally get rid of the clutter!!

What Dreams May Come

I think of myself as a dreamer. Some look down on dreamers because they feel that a dreamer does not have a grip on reality. I beg to differ. I have a fantastic grip on reality, but without my dreams, I would become a cynical hag. I most likely drive people crazy with all my hair brained ideas for business ventures, or a craft I want to make, or home decorating. Sure, I probably won't get to do or make them all, but the excitement of wanting to, and sharing that excitement with someone, is a thing that makes life fun, and, yes, even bearable. I spent the day looking through smocking magazines with a friend. I found probably fifty new things I would like to make. Truth be told, I will be lucky to make one. But it gladdens a woman's heart to dream about making beautiful things with her hands.
Those people I talked about earlier that look down on dreamers, they are usually the type who are addicted to work, always on the go. They have no time to stop and smell the roses and then dream about making curtains that are embroidered with hundreds of bouillon roses of the same color. I will bet any money those same persons will die much younger than a dreamer. Here is my advice: do yourself a favor. Buy a craft book of any kind, look through it, and dream up enough crafts to keep you busy for the next five years. Maybe you won't make them all, but you should make it a point to make at least one.

Operation Messy House

Before I got married, I was a tidy and organized person- just ask my mother if you don't believe me. Then I married my husband Phillip. My gorgeous, junk-hoarding, disorganized husband. Well, he claims he did have a system: put everything in a bunch of piles, that way he knew where to look (rummage through the piles) whenever he needed something. When we got engaged, we started setting up house in his parent's upstairs, where he had already lived for several years. It was the most unkempt living space I had ever seen. I even took pictures, because I knew no one would ever grasp how awful it was! I tried my best to organize the hodgepodge piles, but it is an insurmountable task to go through another person's things when they swear revenge if you throw anything away. After fighting with the clutter for awhile, depression set in and I finally gave up. Over the past 5 years I have given organizing a valiant effort, but it was like running on a treadmill: working, working, working, but never getting anywhere. One day a couple months ago, I was crying a river about the appalling state of my house. Then, it happened. The thing I almost always have to do to talk myself into doing something hard, whether it be learning to drive stick shift, or make a topsy-turvy cake, or clean up my house. I got mad. I screamed "THAT'S IT!!!" to no one in particular, then stomped to my computer where I Google-d "organizing your home". One of the first few results caught my eye: FlyLady.net. I think the name jogged a memory of one of my mom's friends talking about it years ago. I started reading, and I cried some more, I signed up for her emails, and cried some more. I started doing her "BabySteps", and I have to say, FlyLady changed my life. One big epiphany for me was her line: "You can't organize clutter." In other words, if you try to organize junk, you will keep running on that treadmill. You have to get rid of the things you don't use. I love FlyLady's concept of "blessing" someone else with the things you don't need. My house is still far from perfect, but I declutter 15 minutes every day, and I try to stick to a schedule. Slowly but surely, I am digging out from under the mess, and it gets better every day. I recommend FlyLady to everyone- it will work for anyone, if you only take those BabySteps, and do what she tells you!

Do you fear death?

"Do you fear death? Do you fear that dark abyss? All your deeds laid bare, all your sins punished!"

I remember the first time I watched Pirates of the Caribbean and heard Davy Jones utter those words- it scared the hell out of me. I have always had a ridiculous fear of dying. Thinking about facing my Maker really makes my stomach turn. My father-in-law always talks about dying- he'd like nothing better than to wake up in Paradise tomorrow. He drives me bat-crap insane with it, mostly because it irks me that he can be so unafraid of something he knows nothing about. He has talked about dying more and more lately- it's starting to really get under my skin. He has me thinking about dying all the time. The pathetic thing is, I wish I were more like my father-in-law. Think about it- if you were not afraid to die, then what would you ever have to be afraid of? I would love to have that kind of unreserved backbone.

One of my favorite Shakespearean passages is Hamlet's Soliloquy:

To be, or not to be--that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep--

No more--and by a sleep to say we end

The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep--

To sleep--perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub,

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause. There's the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely

The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death,

The undiscovered country, from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprise of great pitch and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry

And lose the name of action. -- Soft you now,

The fair Ophelia! -- Nymph, in thy orisons

Be all my sins remembered.

I like this passage because I can relate with Hamlet. Dying sounds good and all until I ponder the uncertainty of it, and whether or not I am going to make it to Heaven. How do I know that I remembered to confess all of my sins? How do I know that I confessed them right? How do I know if I made up for them enough? I have sometimes told God, "Look, if I'm going to Hell anyway, just take my life now and quit torturing me." Well, I'm still alive, so either God is ignoring me, or there is still a chance I could make it to Heaven. There have been times in days past that I might have taken my own life, had it not been for my firm belief that I would go straight to Hell. I am ashamed to admit that I even gave it a half-hearted effort a couple of times. I thought nobody would miss me- I felt everyone would be better off had I never been born. I still feel that way sometimes. I am no George Bailey. I know that I have not affected one person for the good. I feel like I have to apologize to my kids for bringing them into this horrible world and for ruining their lives. That's a pretty low feeling.

Oh yeah....

I decided to start a blog for a couple of reasons: 1. I have always wanted to write a book. I don't know how many stories I wrote when I was a teenager that just ended up in the trash (that's the fear of criticism I talked about). So this is my way of expressing myself, "writing something", and venting ('cuz we all need to do it!); and 2. I watched "Julie & Julia", and I thought it was one of the most awesome movies ever. Call me cliche', but that movie inspired me! Okay, you're probably wondering about the title "Barefoot, Pregnant, and Proud". So, let me elaborate.

I am barefoot most of the time. I only wear shoes when I have to. Don't get me wrong, I love shoes. I have enough shoes to rival Imelda Marcos. I just don't like to wear them- it's like my feet are claustrophobic. I break into a sweat and start to hyperventilate if I don't get the dang shoes off now!! (I'm only joking a little bit.) Even at my wedding, I wore these beautiful clear shoes that looked like Cinderella's; but you better believe I got those babies off my feet as soon as I could! Our photographer even took a picture of my bare feet, and I'm so very glad he did because that is so "me".

Although I am not currently pregnant, I have been pregnant for 42% of my married life. I just had my third baby in November. I sometimes get depressed because I am 23 years old, and my body is all out of whack from having babies. When I got married, I had a 34-23-32 svelte figure. I know it's my own fault that I am where I am, since I ate like a pig while I was pregnant, but you know- eating for two and all that. (Actually, I recently learned that pregnant women only need about 300-400 more calories a day- who knew?) I am determined to get my body back before I have another baby (my goal is to have a Wonder Woman- worthy body by Halloween). I may have to Wii Fit, Total Gym, and starve my way back, but you know, even though my body will never be the same, I can take comfort in the fact that I have three beautiful children, and they make all the extra fat and stretch marks worthwhile. (take that, Mr. Run-On Sentence!!)

Even though some people ridicule me for my lifestyle (FYI: stay-at-home mom who never did anything "exciting" before I got married), I am proud of the person I have become. I sometimes wonder myself if I should have done this, that or the other, or if I should have even gotten married at all. I believe I have the kind of grit that I could have been whatever I wanted- an actress, a fashion designer, whatever. Instead of "being something" or "being someone", however, I chose to be everything to three (or four... or five... or twelve) very important, and for now, very small, someones. To my kids, I am the sun, moon, and stars. They look to me for guidance, acceptance, and love. I could have done anything I wanted- and I do what I do, day in and day out, because I believe with all my heart that I am doing what I was meant to do. And that is a very comforting thought.

Starting Over

I am a social butterfly. I am the type of person that thrives off interaction with other people. I become very depressed when I try to be a homebody. I also take it very hard when someone criticizes me- it's like their elucidation of me becomes permanently embedded in my soul, and I never get over it. So you can imagine how difficult it is for a person like me to write a blog. While I am excited about the possibility of being acclimated for baring my soul to the world and sharing my ideas and opinions, at the same time I am very afraid of rejection. But, if one never takes a risk, what kind of life is that? My in-laws have a plaque above their utility sink that talks about a man who played his whole life safe: never drank, smoked, kissed a girl, went anywhere or did anything. But when he died, no one came to his funeral, because he never lived. So, hello world, this is me living.