Probably the best part about Facebook is reconnecting with long lost friends, and finding out what your graduating class is now up to, *cough* a decade later.
It used to intimidate me when I'd see fellow class mates listing their colleges, degrees, and jobs. Worse when they would list all the different parts of the world they have studied in, traveled too, and even lived in. My profile, at the time I thought, was lame in comparison to their grand ones.
I tell him no, and explain why he can't do or have whatever it is that has started this melt down. His voice raises, he stomps, and the crying begins. The sassy mouth, the arguing, the whining, and the tantrums, sometimes they are too much. I'm frustrated, he is frustrated. It's a lose-lose situation, I fear.
He's four. Sometimes he's four going on 14, so mature and grown up, and able to have interesting adult like conversations with us. Other times he's four going on...two. I have to remind myself on a daily, even minutely, basis that he is still four. He's still a young kid. He, like me, isn't perfect all the time. He is just being what he is, being a four year old little boy. He's testing his boundaries, pushing me as a parent to see how I will handle certain behavior.
I'm not big on strict diets. I'm far
from being a health nut. I certainly don't drink enough water. I feel like
dessert should be a food group. I admit, I have poor, unhealthy eating habits.
I want to eat better all the
time, but I don't think it's fair to deprive one's self from a tasty treat. I'm
human. Besides moderation is key right?
Seems like I'm always tired. I mean yes, I stay at home with a 4 and 1 year old, and I just turned 30. I should be tired. Honestly though I shouldn't require a nap daily. I should have more energy. I decided that this version of me that felt run down and lacked motivation had to go!
It's hard to be truly happy and content all the time with where you live, I don't care what state you live in. Everyone has to have some kind of beef with their current city and/or state. Let's face it, Ohio isn't usually on someone's top ten "I-want-to-live-there" states. I get this and for reasons I can understand. Though it does have it's pros. We are not plagued with earthquakes, tornadoes, or hurricanes. Things tend to stay pretty quiet in regards to those things. We get four seasons, though winter seems to get the longest run time. There are really beautiful parts of the state to be proud of. Southern Ohio is gorgeous. We have Cedar Point, The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and the Ohio State Buckeyes. Not too shabby if you ask me.
Driving down 71 as often as I do, you tend to see all sorts of different state license plates. Sometimes I like to wonder as I drive where that car's destination is or will be. Are they coming or going? Are they visiting the Buckeye state or just driving through? What are their thoughts as they drive down this particular highway? Do they like what they see? Do they wish they could live here? Do they wonder about all the stories that are being made by those who live here?
It was my 11th or 12th birthday. I opened up one of my gifts and inside were the new Nancy Drew books set. I have the picture somewhere of my face. I wasn't thrilled. It was sort of a joke from my mother who read the books when she was my age and wanted me to love reading as much as she did. At the time I didn't of course. I hated to read.
Nearly two decades later, I would call myself a bona fide book worm. If I haven't read it, I want to. I will most likely read anything I can get my hands on. To me there is nothing better than curling up by a fire or sitting on the deck with a good book to get lost in. I could spend hours on end in a bookstore or a library. I love the feel and smell of books, and have declared I will never buy a Kindle, because it takes away the novelty for me.
I have been blogging, writing in some form, posting pictures, and social networking for a long time now. You name it, I most likely am apart of it. I have so many account/user names and passwords I sometimes can't keep them all straight. 6 years ago all I knew was email. I knew nothing of blogs and flickr and the like. Nothing. I then became pregnant, and stopped working to prepare myself for my first child and the adventures of first time motherhood. It started out innocent and simple. I wanted to document my pregnancy, keep family and friends posted on the latest with me using stories and pictures, even videos.
It snowballed I guess you could say. My blog grew. Readers and subscribers grew. Comments grew. I made wonderful cyber friendships. This was fun, and I was getting a chance to not only share with everyone about my little life, I was also able to stretch my creative side.
A few days ago I got the bug. No, not the sickness bug. The organizing bug and bit me right in the butt. I even broke out my trusty prized label maker. In knowing that Spring is almost here, regardless of the snow I still see outside my window, I want to rid of stuff, organize, and clean.
Some items that come front and center to my mind, and basement, are baby stuff. Clothes, toys, and gear. Of course thinking on these things bring questions to my mind. Questions of where I will put them, basement or attic, or how I should organize them are not what pops in my mind.
When I first got married I knew I wanted kids. I also knew I wanted to enjoy marriage and enjoying "us" time. I had a plan. My husband who is 6 years older than me wanted kids perhaps even sooner than I did. We both agreed a year or maybe two and then we'd try. I was one day shy of 22 when we were married. My goal was to have my first by 25. I wanted to have three kids and be done at 30. God, life, the universe, though had other plans.
We started trying a year after we were married. I was 23 then and working full time. I was a hairdresser so I worked with a lot of women, young women, fertile women. These women could literally look at a guy and get pregnant.
When I first found out I was pregnant with my first child, my first concern was simple; the baby's and my health. I had a relatively easy and healthy pregnancy, didn't worry about too much. Being around babies and kids and having friends with children, I had an idea of what baby products I wanted to use, how I wanted to raise my baby, and so forth. I think my biggest decision at the time was to decide which bottles to use!
I have to admit with some things regarding raising my firstborn, I was laid back and go with the flow. I have to say I did whatever any one else did with their baby. If it worked for them, it would surely work for me. If their baby liked it, mine would as well.
I'm not sure where it comes from, or if I'm 100% sure I should even claim the title. I'm a perfectionist, to an extent, if that makes sense. It started when I become a mother. Or maybe it started when I found out I was pregnant. Or maybe it started when I decided it was time to start trying for a baby. Or maybe...
Every year is the same. I have in my head what the special day, holiday, or birthday will or should be like, and every year something goes wrong. Every year something happens that makes my little picture perfect moment in my head go "poof" and I'm left sulking.
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