I haven’t talked about my professional life on here much but its one of the best and craziest parts of my life right now. I work in a very fun environment where we embrace the differences of in our team and even encourage them. We work with children and its my opinion that exposing children to different types of people in a safe and welcoming environment is a great thing.

Having a diverse group means that I need make sure my new team members feel comfortable with the rest of the staff so I help that when I can. One of the things we do is have our new staff walk around with the person training and ask everyone in the building that works here for a “fun fact” about themselves. This is hands down my favorite part of the training. Coworkers randomly approach me from time to time and ask me if I’m hiring anyone new soon because they finally thought up a fun fact about themselves.

It always surprises me that its hard for people to come up with interesting tidbits about themselves. You should know yourself better than anyone else in this world. How is it possible to forget the fun? How often do we downplay the things that make us unique and who we are? We expect the “fun facts” about us to be these wild and over the top stories when even the things we think are commonplace can be fun and unusual. I think its good sometimes for us to stop and reflect on these things. Maybe if we talk more about our fun facts and less about the insanity of life we can start to work together a little better.

I hope that when I die there are enough fun facts about me to fill a book and I hope the same for each and every one of you. If you’re feeling like sharing, drop your fun fact in the comments. If you’d rather keep quiet, I challenge you to think about your fun fact and share it with yourself. Have a great Friday everyone!

P.S. My fun fact of the day is that I’ve met three movie stars this year. More on that later 😉

 

I love it when I feel like I don’t have any weird/funny stories to share with you and God looks down and says ” I got you boo.” (Queen Latifah voice remember.)

Last night I excitedly fed the twins PURPLE baby food. I can’t even remember what was in it but I was so excited to find purple baby food that I had to buy it. I also fed them some Gerber Macaroni and Cheese with Veggies, peas, carrots, and some cubed peaches. They enjoy eating and I enjoy feeding them new things. (We tried oatmeal the other day and I’ve never seen infants look more offended in my life.) Its highly entertaining. Unfortunately this entertainment has an ugly side and has resulted in bigger poopy diapers than we had before.

This morning, The Conqueror’s diaper exploded. It was subtle at first. She didn’t smell but I could tell that she needed a diaper change by the weight of her so I put her down and went off to grab a diaper from her room. Mind you, I was in the process of getting ready for work when all this went down so I was walking around in jeans and a bra. It wasn’t until I looked down and saw a dark greenish-charcoal smudge on my abdomen that I realized something was horribly wrong. My brain said “oh that must be motor oil or something equally gross from my dirty husband.” (He is often covered in mysterious substances of this nature due to his job.) Doing a double take I saw that it was also smudged across my bra. Like an idiot, I sniffed it.

POOP! There was poop on me! AGAIN?! My thoughts became a blur. “Oh my God she’s in the playpen with a poo blow out! Please don’t be everywhere!” In horror I reached down into her playpen to pick her up. I was relieved to see that there was no poo in the playpen but my relief was short lived. It was up her back. And I don’t mean a little, I mean up to the armpit and spreading down her legs with every kick and giggle. She was apparently quite content to squish around in it.

I ran into the bathroom with her held out in front of me. I sat her down on the tile floor and stared at her for a minute like she was an alien. I decided that the best course of action was to wipe her off as best I could and then put her in the tub. It was a great plan. Three wipes in and no end to the poop in sight I realized that I was out of wipes! To make matters worse, my Husband wasn’t responding to my frantic shrieks for help. Yes frantic because at this point The Conqueror decided that she’d had enough of laying on the bathroom floor and wanted to crawl around. I quickly wiped up what I could and put her in the tub. It hits me now that I could have just used toilet paper instead of trying to get creative with the three wipes.

While she splashed in the tub I cleaned the poop off of the floor and myself. She was decent enough to act snuggly when I wrapped her in a towel so all is forgiven. Maybe tonight we’ll leave purple off the menu.

I’m very fortunate as a new Mom to have found some awesome Mom friends who I can turn to when things are insane (which is pretty much all the time). One of these dear friends is Hillary. We connect on many levels. As she says, “While I’m sure most working Moms live a life of chaos, we don’t seem to waste the time and energy trying to hide it.” I think its one of our strengths. I love her because she is a beautiful ball of creative energy who is weird enough to think that I’m great too. She shares her brand new boxes of crayons with me and even shares her advice when I need it. She recently gave me permission to share one of her stories with you with the hopes that someone else would learn from her mistake. When you start your family you know that things will have to change but its really easier said than done. The Holidays are especially hard. My weird brood is still trying to figure out what works best for us and I’m sure this year will be even more insane with all four kids around. Hillary learned the hard way that sometimes the old traditions just don’t fit with your new family.

You see she and her husband (who I also love) had been together for a long time before they had kids and thought they had their Christmas routine all worked out. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were spent with his family in their hometown an hour and a half away followed by time with her family back here on the evening of the 25th. They soaked up all the family time, ate all the food, and basked in the wonderful chaos that only comes with times like this. It was perfect! They loved it! When their daughter was born they wanted to keep it as close to the normal run of show as possible. They decided that sleeping at home on Christmas Eve would be best for the baby and would allow them time to do Christmas morning with Santa at their house before returning to his parents’ place. Three month old baby,  healing c-section, hour and a half drive, what could possibly go wrong?!

All of it! One thing you underestimate as a new parent is how freaking long it takes to get out of the house with a child. They have so many accessories that you have to pack! Its like going camping! On December 24th the hour and a half drive became a three hour adventure in exhaustion. Once they got there she realized that she’d had no idea how difficult it would be to breastfeed her little one who was battling a cold. Her in laws offered help but to a new Mom accepting it only felt like failure. She ached from her c-section and desperately needed a nap although her family didn’t seem to understand. She missed her Mom who’d been staying at her house to help with the new baby. She was completely drained by the time they got home around 1am.

To make matters worse, she was determined that her three month old would have a Santa morning for her first Christmas! This is the part of her story where I had to pause open mouthed and get a repeat. She and her husband stayed up wrapping presents and prettying up. A couple hours later the baby woke up to eat and she, her husband, and her mom unwrapped all of the presents that they’d just wrapped. They knew it was absurd but sometimes you have to just stick with it. I’m pretty sure I would have been so tired that I would have killed someone for looking at me funny but she plowed onward. She spent the rest of what she now calls the worst Christmas ever in a fog of exhaustion and pain. She was heartbroken. It was all supposed to be perfect! None of it was!

They knew then that it was time to be their own family and make their own traditions. They realized that it was their job as parents to protect the magic of Christmas for their children, even if that meant sacrificing their old version of “normal”. They still go to see her husband’s family on the 24th and stay till after midnight but the 25th is all about their little family. They stay in their jammies and watch movies and just slow down. In the crazy fast paced world we live in, that alone is a Christmas gift. Their choice didn’t make everyone happy right away but eventually they came around. Nine years later they love their family tradition but are open to changing it one day when their kids have families of their own. As she says, she never wants her kids to cry on Christmas the way she did that first year.

 

I believe that oftentimes laughter is the only thing that keeps me going. Sometimes I think of it like a little trolling motor on the crazy ass pontoon boat that is my life.

Once, while out on the lake my grandparents lived on, the motor stopped working on their party barge. We were close enough to see the cove that they lived in but it took us about 45 minutes to get there using the trolling motor. We sat back and watched as the house grew closer little by little, safe in the knowledge that that tiny motor would get us there eventually. Laughter is my trolling motor.

A couple weeks ago the company I work for had a big charity event and I volunteered to run errands with a coworker for it. It was supposed to be a quick trip but it turned in to the Gilligan’s Island of shopping trips. One hour max became four hours, five stores, and too many phone calls back to the office to count. The Mom Van was completely stacked with everything from plexiglass to feathers and cases of bottled water. We had so many items in our carts at Walmart that the cashier called in back up so we wouldn’t have to unload everything and bag it. At one point we were both threatening mutiny if we ever got sent out on a trip like this again.

By the end of the event that night I was so exhausted that my legs were shaking. That’s when my boss called for an “all staff dance party.” Talk about being able to read your team. It was exactly what we needed. It gave us something to laugh and smile about. The struggles and frustrations that led up to it seemed silly and small. With every bad dance move and laugh we trolled closer and closer to smoother waters.

I try my best to find at least one thing to laugh about every day. Sometimes it’s as simple as watching one of The Twins make a horrible face when she tries new food. Other days it’s more elaborate and I get to have one of those big giant belly laughs that keeps me giggling for a few hours. I’m always thankful that my life is filled with laughter. I’m that my little trolling motor hasn’t run out of steam, especially on the days when the calm waters seem infinitely far away.

I started writing my post for yesterday and just couldn’t get into the groove so I stepped away from it. Now I think it was meant to happen. So here you are, a special Thursday addition of Mom Van Confessions.

This morning I took the Twins to their 9 month check up. As I sat down in the waiting room I realized that my phone wasn’t in my pocket. No biggie. I must have left it in the Mom Van. (I wasn’t about to haul both girls back out into the cold to look for my phone just so I could fart around in the waiting room for ten minutes on Facebook.) We went into their appointment and everything went well. They even handled their shots like champs (although they both looked at me like I’d betrayed them). I checked out at the desk and carried the car seats and diaper bag out to the Van.

But my phone wasn’t there on the front seat….. Or under the seat….or in the back seat…or the diaper bag..The ground! Check the ground! No! Okay breathe…move the Van and walk back inside and ask if anyone has found it……Nope!

Panic set in but I drove home. I knew I could track my phone from my iPad. As I drove I wondered if my phone backed up last night after we took the girls first Santa pictures. How would I afford a new phone? …Deep breaths… I’d track my phone then run back to the Mom Van and hunt it down.

I got home and opened the front door. BOOM! DOG POOP SMELL! I gagged. This could not be happening right now! I found the iPad and the smell. Moose had a blowout on my newly cleaned bedroom floor. *gag* I swear it’s bigger than the children.

Must. Find. Phone. Poo will have to wait. I tracked the phone back to the Doctor’s office. I set an alarm off on my phone using Find My iPhone and sent instructions to it to call my husband. Then I got back in the car and drove back to the Doctor’s office to check the parking lot again. Nothing. Crying I headed to The Hubs’ job. When I got there he laughed at me. They’d found the phone at the Doctor’s and called him.

So now I’m sitting here in the driveway in the Mom Van, writing this on my phone while the girls nap in the backseat. I figured after all that drama I’d give myself a minute to calm down before I dealt with more shit. Let’s hope once that’s over the rest of the day will involve less poop and stress.

A couple of months ago I lost my husband…in our house…for about six hours.

Yes, you read that right. Take a minute to read it again if you need. I’ll wait…

A few things are worth noting here:

1) My Husband HAS disappeared before. PTSD is a bitch. We’ll talk about that one day.

2) Our house is not big. It only has 4 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a kitchen/dining area, and a living room.

3) He was driving a motorcycle at the time.

4) It was a dark and stormy night. (What a great line.)

I call him every day when I leave work and head to pick up the twins. He let me know that he was about to leave work but when I got home his motorcycle wasn’t there so I assumed he’d been tied up at work. An hour later I started to get irritated. After another hour that irritation turned into worry. He wasn’t answering his phone. None of our friends had seen or heard from him. One more hour passed and I was irritated again. I loaded the twins up and drove by his office to see if he’d fallen asleep there or something (desperation). No dice. Also, no motorcycle. I was full on mad now. I went back home and decided that I’d go to bed. He’d come home when he was ready.

When I woke up at 1am and he still wasn’t there I freaked. I tried calling him again and this time he answered. I was at once relieved that he was alive and ready to run him over with the Mom Van for disappearing. I demanded to know where he was. He was confused, “What do you mean where am I? I’m in my office.” I ferociously responded that he was not in his office and that he could kiss my butt if he wanted me to believe that because I’d driven by. “No,” he said, “I’ve been in my office.” I continued to argue until I heard the door to his HOME OFFICE open and close.

He’d been in the house the whole time. He explained through gales of laughter that his boss had brought him home so he wouldn’t have to drive in the rain. When he got home he’d gone into his office to fix a recliner that my father in law had brought over a couple of days before. After he fixed it he sat down and fell asleep. His PTSD had kept him awake for a couple of days leading up to this and he’d finally just crashed. I’d never even thought to check there because his motorcycle wasn’t in the driveway and all the doors were closed to the room like they normally are. I then had to let all of our friends know what happened and that he was safe. He thought it was hilarious as did his boss and all of our friends.

Mom brain is real ya’ll. If he ever disappears again I’ll be sure to check his office first.

 

The Mom Van and I have only been a team for about 6 months but she’s an essential part of our family. The kids even have a theme song for her. (Basically they just scream “Nananananananana MOM VAN!” to the tune of the old Batman theme song.) I didn’t want a Mom Van though. I always thought I’d drive something cooler than that.

You see, before the Mom Van There was my cute little Nissan Versa and before that there was my absolutely adorable Volkswagen Beetle. I had to give up both to make room for my growing family. I decided to give up my cute little Beetle when we arranged for The Boy and Crazy Eyes to come visit and stay for a week. I just couldn’t see myself wrestling two little ones in and out of that backseat. So I waved my silver Bug with flowered hubcaps goodbye and embraced what I considered a family vehicle. When we bought the Versa I assumed that when we had our first child together the older two would be in booster seats or regular seats and we’d make it work until we needed another seat. Then BOOM! Twins! Surprise Versa, you are no longer big enough! I miss that little car all the time. It’s difficult enough to look cool in a Versa. You can only imagine how ridiculous I look in a white Mini Van.

I was really upset about getting the van until the first time we were able to pile into it as a family. It was awesome to see us all in there together. We’d been driving separate cars for a little while because the girls were early and I’d been dragging my feet on it before they were born. In a weird way buying the van seemed like admitting that the life I had before was gone. No more manual transmission for me. No more sporty little car. Now I was riding in what seemed like the soccer mom fleet vehicle and I didn’t feel at all prepared for that. These are not the kinds of changes you think about when you decide to have kids. Or at least it’s not the kind of change I though about. When we started talking about having kids I thought about a lot. Bills increasing, how we wanted to raise our Tiny humans, what my body would look like, breastfeeding, schools, etc. I pictured baby booties and tiny toes and diapers. I didn’t picture a Mom Van.

I’ve adjusted to The Mom Van. Sometimes she seems like an extension of myself because we’re together so much. I spend at least two hours on the road every day. I have embraced the convenience of each and every well thought out design feature. I still miss my manual transmission but I remind myself that one day I’ll be able to drive a fun car again. In the meantime you can usually find me and the Mom Van sitting in traffic with my brood of children listening to an audio book or having a dance party. I’ve even realized that the Mom Van is the perfect accessory for adventures with family and friends because you can fit just about anything into it.

Since its been an interesting week already I thought I’d share some of the crazy with you. Here are a few of the ridiculous things that have happened this week in chronological order.

1) The Girls Took Their 1st Christmas Pictures…

Our family photographer is infinitely patient thank God! They spent most of the time pulling on each other’s antlers and trying to crawl over one another. Despite me taking pictures of them pretty much every morning, they were not interested in being still. They were having a blast crawling around and trying to eat everything. The Conqueror was growling (one of her favorite sounds to make) almost the entire time. I don’t think we’ll have many conventionally cute pictures but the ones of them fighting seem the most appropriate anyway. I snapped this one while doubled over laughing.

2) I Spent Most Of The Morning Tuesday With A Mentholated Booty Cheek…

Yea, you read that right. I don’t like to wear clothes when I sleep, especially since the girls still wake up to nurse during the night. I also like to have at least one part of my body touching my husband during the night. This usually isn’t a problem but Monday night he went to bed with a mentholated back patch on his lower back. Sometime during the night I put my bare bum right on the back patch. When I woke up I felt a cold draft but  thought nothing of it. It wasn’t until I rolled over onto my back that the icy chill made itself fully known. One square patch on my booty cheek felt like I’d strapped a big ice cube to it. Not only did showering not help, it also made me late for work. Fortunately my boss has a sense of humor and thought it was hilarious.

3) I Dressed The Same Twin Twice…

As you can see, they had already had enough of me this morning before I even got them dressed. I was talking to The Hubs while dressing them and in my state of distraction I tried to put two sweatsuits on The Hun. She was not pleased. I’m pretty impressed that it took me 9 months to do something like that so I’ll chalk that part of this story up as a win.

4) The Mom Van Ate My Wedding Band…

Today while at a stop light I decided to put some lotion on my hands. My rings have alot of tiny areas in them that get gooped up with lotion pretty easily so I always take them off when I moisturize. Usually when I do this I put my rings in the little pocket on my door but for God knows what reason this time I put them on my center console. Before I could even open the lotion the light turned green. As I pulled forward my wedding band slid between two parts of the center console. When I reached to retrieve it, the Mom Van Gobbled it up. I swear it happened in slow motion. I heard the metallic *tink* as it hit the bottom part of the inside of my console. By inside here I mean the ring is literally inside the structure of the vehicle. We are going to have to take the center console apart the retrieve it. To their credit, two of the people on my staff hugged me and another even offered to help me try and crack the console open. My engagement ring is still here on my hand but my finger feels naked without the band.

So there it is folks, and to be honest, there is more to tell but those stories will have to wait for another day.

Dear Tiny Babies,

Please, please slow down. You are the first and last children that I will carry in my body and while I love to celebrate your every milestone I also selfishly mourn because they are milestones I will never get the chance to celebrate again. So I get just the once with you. An ironic thought because there are two of you.

While some nights the exhaustion makes me want to scream, I try hard not to say “I can’t wait till you get bigger.” The truth is I can wait. I want to make sure that I drink in every single thing and don’t let it go. I wish I could record every little funny moment, every snuggle, every new thing you do. I find it impossible to imagine you as anything but the babies that you are now. My sweet, chunky cheeked little monkeys. I can’t picture you as a toddler even although you’re already pulling up on everything and trying to crawl all over the place.

Sometimes in the middle of the night I pad into your room as quiet as I can just to check and make sure you’re still breathing. You are beautiful and perfect. On the days when I am at my worst, you and your siblings make me keep trying for my best. You are only nine months old and through your very existence have taught me more about love and perseverance and myself than the whole of my life combined. I love that you are so very much alike and yet so different.

So please, slow down my tiny babies. Stay little just a little while longer. Let me snuggle you and give you kisses and enjoy you being small.

Mommy loves you Stinky Toots!