yesterday i was planning on making matty cheesecake.then i remembered i have two miniature tasmanian devils.
and one more in the making who is crawling b t dubs.
so i downgraded to white chocolate macadamia nut cookies. {his fav.}
that didn't happen either.
he came home.
and guess what?
he was holding a cheesecake.
i know, we should get married.
and i was planning on blogging tonight.
but,
you see,
i had this beautiful idea of putting a piece of cheesecake in the freezer.
just to see if it is actually possible for cheesecake to get any better than it already is.
it can.
it does.
so now i am in quite a pickle, you see.
i haven't blogged in a week but the only thing i can think of
or
want to talk about
for that matter
is almost frozen cheesecake.
until tomorrow, my friends.
Showing posts with label matty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label matty. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Thursday, February 2, 2012
domestic drama
it's amazing what two nights
of more than one hour of sleep
at a time
will do to you.
i'm not ready to talk about it.
yet.
but, things are looking upish in the catching some zee's department.
and a well restedish mama means generally cheery children.
because,
when i'm exhausted?
my babies are the ones who suffer.
and my husband.
about once a month i get to the point where
"i just can't do this anymore"
matt:: "what exactly is this?"
at this point i typically throw myself on the floor
sometimes i put my hand on my forehead for a little extra flair and say "this."
"all of this."
"i can't do it."
"you, them, this house, dinner, laundry. all of this!"
i need a real shower.
not just a quick bath.
i need to wash my hair.
i need to multitask and get results, not just make more work.
at this point, my pity party typically reaches an all time high.
i can't see through my tears and may or may not be on the brink of hyperventilating.
yup.
now i'm hyperventilating.
i tell him he will never understand.
he gets to pee alone. all day.
and if he wants a bag of funyuns?
all he has to do is go inside 7-11 and get them. by yourself. no kids or carseats or strollers involved.
"do you know how lucky you are?!!?"
now, i will have you know that this domestic drama breakdown has been occuring for almost two years now.
back then?
he was a terrible responder.
he still is.
at least for my love language.
but, he has come a long, long way, my friends. and i am extremely thankful for that.
it may have something to do with the fact that said outbreaks may not be 100% justifiable.
i'm not saying that, for the record. he might say that.
he simply can't understand why i am so ungrateful for my semi charmed life.
is there some truth to that?
at times.
staying present and grateful is tough. real tough, right?
at this point, i typically hold my phone, hover over my favorites and quickly rack my brain trying to figure out who to call.
who is going to have a sliver of sympathy.
who will be kind enough to put me on speaker, set the phone down and roll their eyes as i sob about how difficult this is. my life, my kids, my husband, a husband who doesn't get it.
because he never complains about his fourteen hour days, i shouldn't either.
he is a saint in that regard.
he never complains.
as of late, these domestic drama breakdowns are on the rise.
i attribute it to lack of sleep.
but, i can tell you, after two nights of semi sleep i can already notice a difference.
hopefully they will be on the decline.
i ran to my babies this morning.
and kissed them with my eyes. as soon as i saw their faces. and kissed their faces when i got to them.
and when sweet stella was crying out of sheer exhaustion for her nap?
i didn't join her.
i picked her up. and i rocked her until i heard her breathing change.
the pause, the sigh, and the slow down. the new pattern of breathing that says
"i am now dreaming, sweet, sweet dreams."
the stuff you miss when you spend a ridiculous amount of time feeling sorry for your self.
and your beautiful life.
i'm the first one to admit this blog is bipolar.
but that's where i am right now.
that's my life.
high, highs.
and low, lows, baby.
it's not all princesses, glitter and rainbows around here.
and i'm sure it's not over there either.
life isn't princesses, glitter and rainbows.
and that's ok.
i found this on pinterest today.
and since pinterest is obviously the gospel, i had a moment of clarity.
mine where:
happy
grateful
dramatic
and
passionate
it's true.
i am.
all of those things.
when i collapse on the floor, convinced that no ones life is harder than mine?
at the time?
i feel that way.
i really do.
and after a hardcore waterworks sesh,
a few hugs,
and matt rolling his eyes only two times, instead of the forty two times, that he used to.
i feel cleansed.
for another couple of weeks.
and i appreciate greatly that we have gone from forty two eye rolls, to two.
i have been told that this hysterical type of reaction or behavior is not conducive to a high stress environment.
i consider my life high stress. but that could be the dramatic in me. who knows.
keep calm and carry on, right?
i'm here to tell you, i don't have it in me.
those that do? really impress me.
i have become so much more patient since having children
but,
i think it's as good as it's going to get.
so while i am extremely greatful.
and happy.
the passion and the dramatic in me will probably overshadow the positive. at times. not always.
and i write here not just to complain.
and not only because i have exhausted those willing to put me on speaker and carry on with their day throwing in a sympathetic "poor thing" every few minutes.
but because everyone has it hard.
one way or another.
and if you can relate to my situation?
and you read and find yourself screaming
yes!
me too!
my kids yanked the curtain rod out of the wall today, too. drywall anchors and all!
and your husband doesn't tell you that no one could do a better job. or look better doing it everytime you are on the verge of a domestic drama meltdown?
come here.
i've got you.
no matter what it is about.
because i get it.
everybody's got their something.
p.s.::
what were your words?
tell me.
i really want to know.
revision::
matt's words::
happy: true
patient: extremely true
dramatic: absolutely, in his own way
outspoken: ummm yes. often it's too much.
of more than one hour of sleep
at a time
will do to you.
i'm not ready to talk about it.
yet.
but, things are looking upish in the catching some zee's department.
and a well restedish mama means generally cheery children.
because,
when i'm exhausted?
my babies are the ones who suffer.
and my husband.
about once a month i get to the point where
"i just can't do this anymore"
matt:: "what exactly is this?"
at this point i typically throw myself on the floor
sometimes i put my hand on my forehead for a little extra flair and say "this."
"all of this."
"i can't do it."
"you, them, this house, dinner, laundry. all of this!"
i need a real shower.
not just a quick bath.
i need to wash my hair.
i need to multitask and get results, not just make more work.
at this point, my pity party typically reaches an all time high.
i can't see through my tears and may or may not be on the brink of hyperventilating.
yup.
now i'm hyperventilating.
i tell him he will never understand.
he gets to pee alone. all day.
and if he wants a bag of funyuns?
all he has to do is go inside 7-11 and get them. by yourself. no kids or carseats or strollers involved.
"do you know how lucky you are?!!?"
now, i will have you know that this domestic drama breakdown has been occuring for almost two years now.
back then?
he was a terrible responder.
he still is.
at least for my love language.
but, he has come a long, long way, my friends. and i am extremely thankful for that.
it may have something to do with the fact that said outbreaks may not be 100% justifiable.
i'm not saying that, for the record. he might say that.
he simply can't understand why i am so ungrateful for my semi charmed life.
is there some truth to that?
at times.
staying present and grateful is tough. real tough, right?
at this point, i typically hold my phone, hover over my favorites and quickly rack my brain trying to figure out who to call.
who is going to have a sliver of sympathy.
who will be kind enough to put me on speaker, set the phone down and roll their eyes as i sob about how difficult this is. my life, my kids, my husband, a husband who doesn't get it.
because he never complains about his fourteen hour days, i shouldn't either.
he is a saint in that regard.
he never complains.
as of late, these domestic drama breakdowns are on the rise.
i attribute it to lack of sleep.
but, i can tell you, after two nights of semi sleep i can already notice a difference.
hopefully they will be on the decline.
i ran to my babies this morning.
and kissed them with my eyes. as soon as i saw their faces. and kissed their faces when i got to them.
and when sweet stella was crying out of sheer exhaustion for her nap?
i didn't join her.
i picked her up. and i rocked her until i heard her breathing change.
the pause, the sigh, and the slow down. the new pattern of breathing that says
"i am now dreaming, sweet, sweet dreams."
the stuff you miss when you spend a ridiculous amount of time feeling sorry for your self.
and your beautiful life.
i'm the first one to admit this blog is bipolar.
but that's where i am right now.
that's my life.
high, highs.
and low, lows, baby.
it's not all princesses, glitter and rainbows around here.
and i'm sure it's not over there either.
life isn't princesses, glitter and rainbows.
and that's ok.
i found this on pinterest today.
and since pinterest is obviously the gospel, i had a moment of clarity.
mine where:
happy
grateful
dramatic
and
passionate
it's true.
i am.
all of those things.
when i collapse on the floor, convinced that no ones life is harder than mine?
at the time?
i feel that way.
i really do.
and after a hardcore waterworks sesh,
a few hugs,
and matt rolling his eyes only two times, instead of the forty two times, that he used to.
i feel cleansed.
for another couple of weeks.
and i appreciate greatly that we have gone from forty two eye rolls, to two.
i have been told that this hysterical type of reaction or behavior is not conducive to a high stress environment.
i consider my life high stress. but that could be the dramatic in me. who knows.
keep calm and carry on, right?
i'm here to tell you, i don't have it in me.
those that do? really impress me.
i have become so much more patient since having children
but,
i think it's as good as it's going to get.
so while i am extremely greatful.
and happy.
the passion and the dramatic in me will probably overshadow the positive. at times. not always.
and i write here not just to complain.
and not only because i have exhausted those willing to put me on speaker and carry on with their day throwing in a sympathetic "poor thing" every few minutes.
but because everyone has it hard.
one way or another.
and if you can relate to my situation?
and you read and find yourself screaming
yes!
me too!
my kids yanked the curtain rod out of the wall today, too. drywall anchors and all!
and your husband doesn't tell you that no one could do a better job. or look better doing it everytime you are on the verge of a domestic drama meltdown?
come here.
i've got you.
no matter what it is about.
because i get it.
everybody's got their something.
p.s.::
what were your words?
tell me.
i really want to know.
revision::
matt's words::
happy: true
patient: extremely true
dramatic: absolutely, in his own way
outspoken: ummm yes. often it's too much.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Once Upon A Time
Once Upon A Time....
there was a girl.
She started a new school.
She was nervous.
On the third day she wore the most fly pair of white Guess jeans
with a vest
and a pair of pointy toe laced up ankle boots.
She looked good.
And she knew it.
She walked up to the teacher's desk
in 5th period geometry
to turn in her test
and a boy said in front of the whole class
"you have something on your butt".
She was so embarrassed so she did what she does when she feels vulnerable.
Retaliates.
She smirked and said.
"why were you looking at my butt?"
Somehow it worked.
The class laughed.
She felt vindicated.
She promptly vowed to hate him for the rest of the year.
She didn't.
They started dating.
He played football.
She was a cheerleader.
He let her wear his favorite Slippery Rock University hat.
On his jet ski.
No one wore that hat but him.
It flew off.
She was scared.
She knew he'd be furious.
He wasn't mad.
After that, she knew she had him.
They went to prom.
They graduated and started college.
He stayed home.
She moved into a dorm.
He told her she would dump him to do the "college thing".
She said she wouldn't.
He was right.
She wanted to do the "college thing".
He cried.
She felt bad.
They stayed friends.
She moved to Tallahassee
Five years later she wanted to come home.
She called him.
She knew he would help.
He was always there for her.
He used his muscles to move her things.
She cooked him dinner.
They decided they would try again.
She fell.
He wasn't ready for forever.
He broke up with her.
She cried.
He felt bad.
She moved to Ocala for a job.
He came to see her.
A lot.
She knew he'd be back eventually for good.
He was.
He offered his heart.
Forever.
She took it along with a very pretty ring.
They got married
On a boat.
They promised forever and sailed away.
She got pregnant
With twins.
They bought a house.
Renovated that house.
And got pregnant again all within a year.
I know,
she still gets tired thinking about it.
She gave birth to the twins.
A boy
and a girl.
They loved each other more
She gave birth to another girl.
They loved each other even more.
He works so hard and listens to her complain about staying home with her crazy kids that she love so much
knowing in his heart that there is no place she would rather be.
He never complains.
The days are long and tough but they're in love.
Happy Birthday, Matty.
Thank you for figuring out forever with me.
You are my rock, my life, my best friend and I am so very proud of you.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
confession
Tonight Matt and I were debating where to put the baby while I made dinner and he put the twins in their high chairs.
Matt suggested on the floor in the bouncy seat.
After I gave him a look of insanity he said
Pssshhhhh.
I went to the laundry room and knew something was really wrong when
A: I heard Stella really crying.
She has only cried 2 times.
Once when Colton kicked her in the head
and once when Chloe poked her in the eye.
B: I had to yell at least four times "what happened" before I got an answer.
Well
What had happened was......
I can actually show you.
Big Baby and Chloe were kind enough to reenact the scene.
Big Baby got the name Big Baby by my niece, Emma, for rather obvious reasons.
She's huge.
Yes, Matt actually found the bouncy seat like this
and
yes, my three week old daughter was in it.
and
yes, we think Chloe was the culprit being that she did it over and over again after we so kindly removed Stella.
Glad it didn't happen on my watch.
On a happier note, upon picking the kids up from school today I heard a little girl scream right after Colton walked in the classroom. He and two little girls were the only ones in the room so I was positive he had hit or pushed her. I reluctantly peeked my head in the room and saw the little girl screaming face down on the floor.
I even more reluctantly asked if he did it.
His teacher, shocked, looked at his other teacher and said "Colton?" "The twins?"
No way! We have been saying all day how well behaved the twins are! They are so easy going!
Got 'em!
At least for another week or so......
And while we're confessing,
Sometimes I pretend I am still nursing the baby even when I have been done for five minutes just to get out of taking care of the twins.
True story.
Sorry, Matt
Matt suggested on the floor in the bouncy seat.
After I gave him a look of insanity he said
"What? The twins know now to be gentle with the baby".
Pssshhhhh.
I went to the laundry room and knew something was really wrong when
A: I heard Stella really crying.
She has only cried 2 times.
Once when Colton kicked her in the head
and once when Chloe poked her in the eye.
B: I had to yell at least four times "what happened" before I got an answer.
Well
What had happened was......
I can actually show you.
Big Baby and Chloe were kind enough to reenact the scene.
Big Baby got the name Big Baby by my niece, Emma, for rather obvious reasons.
She's huge.
Yes, Matt actually found the bouncy seat like this
and
yes, my three week old daughter was in it.
and
yes, we think Chloe was the culprit being that she did it over and over again after we so kindly removed Stella.
Glad it didn't happen on my watch.
On a happier note, upon picking the kids up from school today I heard a little girl scream right after Colton walked in the classroom. He and two little girls were the only ones in the room so I was positive he had hit or pushed her. I reluctantly peeked my head in the room and saw the little girl screaming face down on the floor.
I even more reluctantly asked if he did it.
His teacher, shocked, looked at his other teacher and said "Colton?" "The twins?"
No way! We have been saying all day how well behaved the twins are! They are so easy going!
Got 'em!
At least for another week or so......
And while we're confessing,
Sometimes I pretend I am still nursing the baby even when I have been done for five minutes just to get out of taking care of the twins.
True story.
Sorry, Matt
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
1st week home
our first week was dreamy.
matty and i divided and conquered.
i got the sweet pink chubby baby.
he got the rambunctious duo.
i love my husband so much.
and he really is such a presh dada.
so much so that the twins would take him over me any day of the week.
he got up with them every morning.
he asked me every five minutes if i needed anything.
and he sprang into action and peeled the twins off of my aching body as they jumped on me.
or the baby.
watching him with my babes?
it really is my favorite thing.
and one morning i woke up to this.
girlfriend hates when her feet and hands are dirty.
hence the scowl.
seriously?
how cute is that?
i know.
so cute.
i just wish i could walk in the back yard to find a pot of gold so matty could stay home and play with us forever.
i'm sure he does too.
ha
ha
i really love that boy.
matty and i divided and conquered.
i got the sweet pink chubby baby.
he got the rambunctious duo.
i love my husband so much.
and he really is such a presh dada.
so much so that the twins would take him over me any day of the week.
he got up with them every morning.
he asked me every five minutes if i needed anything.
and he sprang into action and peeled the twins off of my aching body as they jumped on me.
or the baby.
watching him with my babes?
it really is my favorite thing.
and one morning i woke up to this.
girlfriend hates when her feet and hands are dirty.
hence the scowl.
seriously?
how cute is that?
i know.
so cute.
i just wish i could walk in the back yard to find a pot of gold so matty could stay home and play with us forever.
i'm sure he does too.
ha
ha
i really love that boy.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
do you wanna know why?
listen.
i've said it before and i'll say it again.
i am no neat freak.
but
i have a better appreciation for an orderly house since the twins have come along.
i love things neat,
i just don't want to be the one who neatens them.
get it?
the appreciation for a more organized space is more out of necessity versus cleanliness.
i need to know where two pacifiers are at all time because multiple meltdowns ensue around these parts at any given moment. and pacis are a quick fix to me maintaining the shred of sanity i have left.
i need to know where the wipes are
which,
are under the couch teetering the line of reachable/non reachable.
i am too pregnant to be able to lean over and dig deep but too tired to heave this belly up once i've already sat down.
they must remain far enough back to where the twins can't reach them and play one of their favorite games commonly known as "let's empty the wipes container, snack on a few, hide a few and throw the rest like we are celebrating like we are in a greek restaurant".
i need to know where diapers are and where clean sippy cups are and where clean clothes are.
we leave this house in a flash most days to avoid meltdowns that are brimming up about to explode by one of the three of us.
the last one has become tricky because the twins love to empty all of their drawers and throw all their clean clothes on the floor mixing them with the piles of laundry that "i will do that day"
ha.
it is mainly tricky for other people because they don't know what is clean or what is dirty.
one of my husbands pet peeves.
i have decided the best cure is not dressing them unless we leave the house.
easy peasy.
less laundry.
anyways.
you get the point.
i would love a clean house but i am unable to do it.
and i don't get how people do.
for example:
i start each day saying today i will mop.......or........fold laundry........or.........dust.
ha.
let's be honest,
i have probably dusted this house twice.
but sometimes when i see how dusty it is i really do say that in my head.
however,
with great intentions or not,
the following seem to happen rather regularly clouding my ability to clean.
i regularly end up putting everything back in the pantry that the twins have taken out.
![]()
![]()
or dangle from
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
i've said it before and i'll say it again.
i am no neat freak.
but
i have a better appreciation for an orderly house since the twins have come along.
i love things neat,
i just don't want to be the one who neatens them.
get it?
the appreciation for a more organized space is more out of necessity versus cleanliness.
i need to know where two pacifiers are at all time because multiple meltdowns ensue around these parts at any given moment. and pacis are a quick fix to me maintaining the shred of sanity i have left.
i need to know where the wipes are
which,
are under the couch teetering the line of reachable/non reachable.
i am too pregnant to be able to lean over and dig deep but too tired to heave this belly up once i've already sat down.
they must remain far enough back to where the twins can't reach them and play one of their favorite games commonly known as "let's empty the wipes container, snack on a few, hide a few and throw the rest like we are celebrating like we are in a greek restaurant".
i need to know where diapers are and where clean sippy cups are and where clean clothes are.
we leave this house in a flash most days to avoid meltdowns that are brimming up about to explode by one of the three of us.
the last one has become tricky because the twins love to empty all of their drawers and throw all their clean clothes on the floor mixing them with the piles of laundry that "i will do that day"
ha.
it is mainly tricky for other people because they don't know what is clean or what is dirty.
one of my husbands pet peeves.
i have decided the best cure is not dressing them unless we leave the house.
easy peasy.
less laundry.
anyways.
you get the point.
i would love a clean house but i am unable to do it.
and i don't get how people do.
for example:
i start each day saying today i will mop.......or........fold laundry........or.........dust.
ha.
let's be honest,
i have probably dusted this house twice.
but sometimes when i see how dusty it is i really do say that in my head.
however,
with great intentions or not,
the following seem to happen rather regularly clouding my ability to clean.
i regularly end up putting everything back in the pantry that the twins have taken out.
or
i have to constantly remove my monkey child from whichever surface he has decided to climb.
or dangle from
sometimes i do get the house mopped
but
you would never know because ten minutes later
it is covered in yogurt.
or sometimes
i have to
clean up the bowl of peas that was dumped and somehow made its way into the family room along with the magazine that somehow got shredded.
or plead with the twins that not only is it not a good idea to stand on the table, it is also not good to play with light switches.
sometimes that laundry doesn't get folded because right after i have put the twins down for a nap i find a box of cereal that mysteriously has ended up on the floor instead of in its box.
sometimes i waste twenty minutes walking around the house looking for the charger to the computer because my darling children like to unplug it and hide it.
i guess what i am trying to say is......
matty,
as crazy as the house looks when you get home, know it is a far improvement from where it once was.
p.s. notice how they aren't fully clothed in one single picture?
told you.
***REVISION***
it is now 6:04.
i wrote the above post around 1:00.
i tidied up from 5-5:45.
this place looked good.
well almost good.
the vacuum started smoking.
and being that the twins chase the vacuum with their faces a few inches from it i stopped avoiding what i felt could result in a potential emergency room visit.
so i only got half of that done
i then cooked dinner while side stepping through these shenanigans.
they did this in 12 minutes.
![]()
told you.
***REVISION***
it is now 6:04.
i wrote the above post around 1:00.
i tidied up from 5-5:45.
this place looked good.
well almost good.
the vacuum started smoking.
and being that the twins chase the vacuum with their faces a few inches from it i stopped avoiding what i felt could result in a potential emergency room visit.
so i only got half of that done
i then cooked dinner while side stepping through these shenanigans.
they did this in 12 minutes.
which of course is when matty got home.
he said "what happened in here? did a bomb go off?"
all while pouring a cocktail and sauntering to a nice warm shower.
alone.
sometimes i think physical violence should be allowed in marriages.
today is one of those days.
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