Coffee and prayer

Well, week one of our new schedule is done. Just like everything that I overreact about, I can look back in retrospect on this week and say, it's really not that bad. I need to learn to be less dramatic.

The hardest part of our new schedule is being tired, but that's nothing new. I've come to terms with the fact that being tired is just part of being an adult. If you don't have to tape your eyelids open every afternoon around 3pm, then you aren't doing it right.

Our new nanny is a blessing. She is an older Bosnian woman, and she insists that Max call her "Nana" which I think is adorable. She is concerned about his leg strength so she is sure to tell me that she helped him walk around throughout the day. His little cooler of food comes home completely empty each night, so I'm proud of her for getting Max to eat so well! She even managed to get him to eat all of the tofu I sent. Ha! I had to laugh when I dropped him off on Wednesday morning and she said "Uhh I forget baby's name?!?" Fair enough...it's not like he can tell her himself! And after a long day at work, sometimes I am driving home and my fried brain goes--Ashley! You have a baby! His name is Max!! And I think, how did we choose the name Max?? 

Thank you everyone for your support as I blab about my so-called struggles. I promise I am only 10% motivated by the need for attention. The rest is purely to just write and capture the events so that when Max gets older I can say, thennnn when you were 9 months old, THIS happened... So thanks for reading.

I have come to realize that when I crave easier times, I am absentmindedly wishing my life away and wishing away some of our most precious moments with Maxwell. And then I realize, all I need is a lot of iced coffee and a lot of prayers for a continued positive attitude. That, my friends, is my recipe for success.

Nine month appt confirms: His head is large.

Max is his own Valentine this year!

Spring fake-out (and a quick rant)

It's that time of year again, where it's not pitch dark when I leave work each night, which puts me in a springtime frame of mind...then temperatures surge into the 50's so I ditch the coat in the morning, and I start to wear pastels thinking that will propel us into spring, and I just get butterflies in my stomach thinking of the fresh feeling that spring brings!!!!!

I know we are weeks (and a few snow storms) away from spring but gosh darnit, we are well on our way to green grass and less hibernating!

My goal for this spring is to get out and about with Max after work.  In the winter, and with him being a little babe, it has been so easy to just come home and play on the floor until bedtime.  But, with warmer weather approaching, and now that he is a bit older, I feel like we can really get out and see the world.  Luckily, my friend Mike provides the perfect opportunities for outdoor activities - kickball games!  Last fall, he had games at a park down the street from our house once a week.  I don't know why we didn't go more often, but there was a handful of glorious nights where Max and I would walk to the park and watch a few games in the final hours of daylight.  I was still such a rookie - on our first trip to watch kickball, I packed up practically his entire nursery into his stroller and then tried to nonchalantly run across a field with him, but all of the crap kept falling out of the stroller and players were like, "HOLD THE GAME, BABY ON THE FIELD" as I made a scene.  Not to mention it was super windy and I was wearing a dress so....I can only thank the good Lord that my confidence and my parenting skills have improved since then.

Also, when will I stop having dreams that Max is in our bed and going to fall out if I don't thrash around and save him?  I'm sure Mike is wondering the same thing.

Flashback to a kickball tournament
 last fall.  Who is this baby??

**Quick rant, if you don't mind: Is anyone else offended by the phrase "Welcome to the club" or am I solidifying my status as the most annoyable person alive?  I mean....how does one establish themselves as the "official welcome committee"?  It's almost as if they want you to know they were there before you, and so "welcoming" you is their way of saying, "Oh man, you just arrived?!  I've been here for a while now and it's cool.  Glad you finally caught on to this cool thing, and as I said, I've pretty much been here forever, so...welcome."

Even worse, people are welcoming others to "clubs" that have either been around forever (parenting, etc.) or are so mainstream and so hip (craft breweries, etc.) that it's impossible to determine who is qualified to offer the official Welcome. So, QUIT IT.

Is this rant legit - too legit to quit? Discuss.

Worst Life Competition

I'm offering myself a challenge this week.  Don't go for the gold in the worst life competition.

It's so easy for me to try to compete.  It's so easy to make a conversation entirely out of what is currently sucking the most.  But why?? What's the point?  What do you really win when you realize that you have the worst situation?  Nothing but a trip to Downerville.

This week, our routine is getting a shake-up.  Mike's work schedule has shifted significantly and we are starting with a new nanny.  So now, instead of getting ready in the silent darkness and then sneaking out of the house, we are getting Max up and ready and I'm dropping him off on my way to work. Mike hits the road well before the sun comes up to get to the gym and beat traffic.

It's like we're adults or something!!!

Change is scary and I hate when my routine gets a shake-up.  I feel like I have so many little things I need to remember to do to have a successful day, and any shift in my routine compromises those little things.

Last night, as I put Maxwell to bed, I counted my blessings and remembered to be 1000% thankful for every single one.  Comparison is the thief of joy and darnit, isn't that the truth!!!  This is my life.  I (try to) choose to love what I get and ignore what I don't get.  I hate to get too crazy here but I really feel like I'm making a huge discovery in "the meaning of life" and "things you can only learn as you get older".

Things I'm excited about:
--Getting to turn the bedroom light on in the morning!
--Getting to dress Maxwell in the mornings!  It may sound silly but I was sad for only getting to choose his outfits 2 days a week.
--Mike's new commute takes him right past a Chik Fila so I'm quite certain this will be a dinner treat at least once a week!!!
--Since we no longer have an in-home nanny, I'm crossing my fingers that our Excel Energy bill will go down since our TV and lights won't be on all day during the week.
--Our new nanny lives literally 3 blocks away.  (The location is almost so perfect, I feel like we're on The Truman Show.  In that case, can I start collecting royalties or what??) She is a sweet older woman and as I was dropping Max off this morning, she kept saying, "You don't worry.  I'm the grandma.  Don't worry!" And even though dropping him off this morning was probably harder than going back to work after maternity leave, I got to work with a huge surge of excitement to pick him up later this afternoon.

We tried cheese this week.  Success! (duh)

Not to be left out, I caught what the boys had.
This pretty much sums up my week.

Super Bowl fun.  For those of you who don't
know, it went downhill shortly after this.

Filed under: Adorable and Blackmail

Warming up for the big game!

Mat Kearney makes me emo

When it comes to music, Mike would tell you that I'm a teenybopper at heart, but that's only because he played Miley Cyrus Wrecking Ball so much that I just HAD to download it!!!  So while I don't claim to have "good" taste in music, I know what I love and I know what songs give me chills and I know what songs make me feeeeeeel something...and isn't that what it's all about??

I love when I forget about music and then have a grand reunion with a certain album - and let the good memories of those jams just flow.  Somewhere around the time of Max being born, I misplaced my iPod. By the grace of God, I finally found it in a random drawer somewhere a few weeks ago.  I've had the greatest time getting re-acquainted with my music.  Especially Mat Kearney.  Oh yes!

So I'm jamming to him right now at work, and I can't help but remember the season of my life that I was listening to Young Love (Sooner or Later) every free moment I had.  I would listen to it as I grudgingly drove to my terribly depressing job, and I was so unsure of what the future held for me and my little family.  Would I ever get a new job?  Where would we live??  Can I survive outside of the Fort Collins bubble? WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE!!!!! (I also learned an important life lesson during this season of my life...having a husband does not solve all of your problems. Had I known that a few years ago, maybe I would've had less panicked nights, fearing a forever-single life) 

SPOILER ALERT: it all worked out - and Mat Kearney was there for the ride.  Today, I sit at a job that I get to love, with co-workers that are true adults and fantastic human beings.  I can indeed survive city life, even though I miss Old Town Fort Collins terribly.  I love that certain songs can remind me of sadness that has been replaced by happiness.  I can still feel the hopelessness and fear of that season of my life, but I can smile as I know that it's been stomped out by new beginnings.

Maybe it's my Bronco brain...maybe it's my coffee buzz...maybe it's just because life is good. But darnit, today is going to be a good day!!

Also, will I ever learn how to spell "liaison" correctly??  Who invented that word anyway?  

Peace out.

Tasks

I hate household tasks. They keep me from relaxing and they haunt me until I complete them. I do always feel amazing and refreshed and euphoric after they're done but sometimes I have to have a real pep talk with myself to get them done.  I also suffer from Obsessive Chore Disorder so as I am trying to clean the floor, I see the fridge is gross, so I stop cleaning the floor and clean the fridge, and then realize I need to emtpy old food containers, then realize I need to start a load of laundry....ahhhhh!!!! By that point I think it would be easier to burn my house down than to accomplish all I'd like to accomplish.

Last night, I had a golden hour to get a bunch of stupid crap done while max was napping. I huffed and puffed while I emptied the dishwasher...folded laundry...put away Target purchases...cleaned bottles and pump parts...and I almost had a mental breakdown when I emptied the soapy water from the bottles into the sink and it all poured onto the floor. I had to have a timeout before I threw the microwave across the room or something equally psychotic.

Ashley, listen. Tasks are the devil. The worst. THE WORST! But, look at what they symbolize. You have dirty dishes because you had food to eat. You have Target bags because you have money to buy necessities (and Oreos...). You have bottles to clean because a precious baby lives in your house and is part of your family. 

We have had a wild week with Mike being down and out with the flu, an impromptu sleepover because of a snowstorm, scrambling for childcare, etc. I am tired. But my fatigue doesn't get to steal my happiness, darnit!!

So, when the next round of tasks present themselves, I will try to remember how to reframe my thinking. Tasks are proof of blessings...most of the time.

Feeling capable

I am feeling capable today. My house is a mess, both of my boys are fighting colds, but I'm feeling so relaxed. 

Maybe it's realizing that you don't have to be a pioneer woman to make chicken noodle soup from scratch. That shiz is incredibly simple to make!!

Maybe it's realizing that if I continue to emphasize cooking with real, fresh ingredients, it's starts to become an easy habit more than a "diet".

Maybe it's realizing that I don't have to be a child psychologist to be a good mom. That by absorbing good habits and relying on my instincts, maxwell really will grow up to be a fine gentleman, and I might have a teeny part in that.

Sorry for the brag post, but for all the times I feel defeated and childish and worthless, I have to soak in this moment of knowing that I can do hard things.

Now, back to my 24 marathon.

Dodgeball and passport rejections

Last night, Max and I went with Mike to dodgeball.  Usually he is just managing the scene and the refs, but last night he was actually going to play, so Max and I just had to witness this.  Turns out, there was about 3 inches of space where we could sit in the gym, and those dodgeballs get flung at about 65 MPH.  The sound of the dodgeballs smacking into the wall and into human skin is terrifying.  All I could picture was a wild ball smacking Max in the face and then me getting branded "Worst Mom of 2014".  I had already forgotten to bring his winter coat along, so I really couldn't risk it.

We started wandering the halls of the middle school and ran into a woman who was working late.  She was so sweet and showed us an open classroom that had carpet and toys that we could play with.  I am reaching the point in my motherhood experience where I realize that germs are germs and germs are everywhere and maybe even a few germs are good?  So we plopped down on the carpet and played our little hearts out!  He acted like he owned the place, eating pictures of the actual students that were taped to the carpet (??) and flipping through their books (some were in Spanish...he didn't say it, but I think Max was really impressed by my ability to interpret).  We bounced a ball around and took a few selfies.  Just to be clear, I think solo selfies are ridiculous and should be outlawed.  Selfies with one or more peeps are fine.
**Mike played so hard that he burned a hole in his pants while sliding for a ball.  I love it!!!

I'm getting a blowout after work today.  I can't wait.  But really I can't wait for the hairdresser to try to get a brush through my hair because I haven't washed it since Sunday night.  I'm not sure when I'll stop bragging about how long it's been since I cleaned my hairs....check back in a few years.

We are in the process of getting Maxwell a passport, and last week we received notification that the photos we submitted for him had been DENIED, because his eyes had a pindrop amount of red (exhibit A) This tells me that whoever was processing his application got a call from her boyfriend in the middle of it, got into a silly fight about emptying the dishwasher or something, then returned to processing the application with a chip on her shoulder, so she denied an 8 month old a passport.  This is all purely speculation, but come on....ridiculous. Meanwhile, my sister's girls' passports were all issued, no problem, even though their photos made them look like blonde Icelandic children, when in reality they are all brown haired olive skin babes.  In the words of Gob Bluth, COME ON!!!!!

I just started watching 24 on Netflix.  Coming off of a Parks and Rec marathon, this has been quite a switch for me.  I get so scared watching it my legs get tingly.  This leads to me being scared at all times.  On the days that I leave for work early in the morning and it's still dark outside, I imagine what I would do if someone tried to accost me in my garage while getting into my car.  As I walk into my building and up the stairs to my office, I have my keys in my hand ready to stab any attackers.  Even now, picturing myself in any of the scenes from Season 1, I get tingly legs.  Let me pause to say a quick prayer that I continue to lead a boring, non-confrontational life where I don't have to steal a gun during a sexual assault and then hide a body in a barn.

Well, that about sums up my week.  I have Bronco Fever pretty bad, along with the rest of the state.  Can't wait for next weekend!!!!

Exhibit A: You be the judge: happy baby who
 wants to play in the sand in Mexico,
or potential threat to homeland security?