I feel pretty, oh so pretty!

There are soooooooo many, many wonderful things about being a full-time Mama.

But today, well today's post is gonna be about to the not-so-wonderful things.  They get me down every once in awhile.  That's how I'm feeling today. (Okay, "down" might not be the right word.  I'm not really "down-in-the-dumps" about it, more like "melancholy."  No, no.  That's not right either.  "Wistful", yeah, that's it.  'Cause "wistful" means that I'm sad in a yearning kind of way for something.  Hmmmmm, betcha didn't know you were gonna get a word definition lesson, did ya'?!)

Anyway, let me explain...

There was a time in my life when I actually got manicures.  Pedicures, too.  Oh, and facials.  Not to mention a regular haircut, complete with a blow out.  And my wardrobe consisted of things other than yoga pants, khaki shorts, tee shirts and flip-flops.  I would barely even consider stepping out of the house without make-up on and my hair done.

Well, sugah, those days are OVER!

Now, I'm doing good to get a little make-up on (gotta hide those dark under-eye circles!) along with a tee shirt that doesn't have stains on it.

When my kids were little (well, they're still little, but littler) they used to torture me by never taking a nap at the same time.  And then along came the DARK under-eye circles, along with trying out at least 32 different kinds of concealer, none of which seem to work worth a poop.  Anyone have any suggestions?  I'm still looking for a good one that really does the trick.  Not too slippery, not too chalky, won't make me look 10 years older by settling in the (dare I admit it?!) wrinkles.  Anyone?  No?  Yeah, I didn't think so.  It hasn't been invented yet.

Oh yeah, they've been plotting against me since before they could even walk.  I swear, I was a walking zombie.  I 'd get one down for a nap and the other would flat-out REFUSE to go to sleep.  Sure enough, I 'd finally get that one to sleep and I'd think, "YES!  Hallelujah!  Now I can get a nap, too!"  Only to have the first wake up within 15-20 minutes.  Right as I was nodding off.

AAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

They're only 16 and a half months apart, so they were both on the nap circuit.  It's not like I was trying to make a kid sleep that didn't need a nap.  They just wouldn't cooperate!

And now that they are older, and off the nap circuit, although there are days when they could certainly USE a nap, I have approximately 18 minutes a day all to myself.  Barely enough time to go to the bathroom in peace and get dressed without an audience.

My nails need painting (badly) and my toes are atrocious!  I'd take a picture of them and post it, but it really is pretty embarrassing.  My hair needs all the dead ends chopped off.  And the tee-shirt that I have right now at this very moment has a HUGE stain on the front of it that I did not even notice until I was out of the house and on my third errand run.  Lovely.

I feel pretty, oh so pretty.

You know what I'm talking about, right?  The sister from "Dirty Dancing", when she's practicing that dumb song for the big production that they do at the end of the week.  Okay, I know it's originally from "West Side Story", but the "Dirty Dancing" reference seems more apropos.

I have gone to lengths that I promised myself as a new mother that I would NEVER do in order to get a few minutes alone.

Yes.  I do it.  I turn to "kid crack."  You know what I mean.  The electronic god that we all worship. (Not literally, I'm being figurative here.)  The TV.

Okay, I admit it, it's on right now.  Otherwise I wouldn't be able to concentrate long enough to form a cohesive sentence.

Anyone that ever said that being a mother was an easy job needs a whoopin'.  Although, I DO agree when they say it's woman's work, because I know for a FACT (well, alright, it's not really a "fact", but in my head it is!) that there is no man on the face of this earth that could do what us gals do!  No way, no how!  No offense fellas, that's just the way it is!

But here's what makes it all that okay.  I get to experience their whole day with them.  Every little happiness, every bump and bruise, every laugh and every tear.  I get to cuddle with them and give and get  hugs and kisses at any moment in time.  I also get to listen to their conversations with their little friends and giggle to myself as they discuss how they'd like to be able to have superpowers or to be turned into a mermaid.  Oh, sure, I have to break up arguments and play referee throughout the day and settle them down when they are acting like crazy, wild banshees, but that's alright.  They're MY crazy, wild banshees and I love every last wild and crazy bone in their bodies!

And I'm very happy when they finally go to sleep at night!

A cheap bottle of wine

Being the rocket scientist that I am (not), I decided that it would be a super great idea for me and the kids to run up to Walmart  to grab a few things.  Right before lunchtime and before they had had their lunch.  They had a late morning snack, surely we could make it to Wally World and back without a hitch.

Uh-huh.  Suuuuuuuure, we can.

See, I had a plan.  A plan and a list.  And I was determined to stick to it.  I was a woman on a mission.

Because here's the thing, I can need ONE thing in Walmart and walk out with a total of about 52 things.  Not to mention that I endup  spending probably 10 times more than what I had planned on spending.  I have the same problem at Target.

I think they design their stores with people like me in mind.

OK, so back to Walmart.  In the parking lot, before we even get out of the car, I assume my "tough" Mom voice and say, "OK, guys, we're only here to get a few things.  I have a list (showing them the list) and I only want to get what's on it."  And my beautiful little cherubs look at me with those innocent eyes and say, "Yes, Mama."  My heart swoons.  I love them so much.

My plan of attack was to go in through the garden center since I needed some things like potting soil and  fertilizer for the palms that we have that are turning yellow and the crepe myrtles we have that are not blooming.

But that's another story and another frustration.

Seedlings pots and potting soil from Wally.  One of our summer projects is planting herbs and veggies from seed.  The herbs will make it, but the veggies will probably burn up in the summer sun, or because we forget to water them.  Oh well...  

And wouldn't ya' know, right when we walk in, they had the nerve to set up a giant wooden playset.  Honey, my kids were like a moth to a flame on that thing.  Now, I'm never really sure about things like this.  Is it acceptable for kids to go ape wild on playthings that are set up in a store? Do they really want random kids testing out these things or do they just set them up to whet the appetite of the kids so that they will BEG their parents and say things like "please, please, please, oh I will do anything if you will get that for me?"   I choose to err on the side of it not being acceptable and after one slide each, made them get off.

Forward march, on to the list!

The list!  See that last entry, the one that says  "toys"?  Yeah, I didn't write that.  Savannah did.  She was holding the list and asked me for a pen.  Stinker!

And dang it all!  Walmart did it to me again!  I thought I was clever enough to circumnavigate the aisles and aisles of toys, but noooooooooooooooo, I didn't factor in the "clearance" toy aisle strategically located right by the garden center door where I THOUGHT the pool floats would be.  Pool floats were on the list.  Well, maybe they weren't, but they were on my mental list!

I led my babies right into the lion's den.  I didn't know what was on that aisle.  Yes, that's right, I'm the dumb bunny that took them down the clearance toy aisle.  Man, you shoulda seen their eyes light up!

So after we thoroughly inspected and scoured the aisle to see what goodies might be waiting there for us, and after I repeated myself a dozen or so times that I was not committing to purchasing any toys, we finally were able to move on.

But not before my daughter managed to slip a paint-by-number set into the buggy.

Oh, alright, I'll admit it.  She wore me down to the point where I said, "OK, put it in, but I'm still deciding whether or not I'm going to buy it for you."

She's sly, that one.

The other one, he was biding his time.  He was looking for the good stuff, helicopters and planes.

By this point, we have killed approximately 30 minutes and I have only crossed TWO items off my list!

We make our way over to the cosmetics/hair stuff/toothpaste area.  And as I'm examining the pros and cons of the various hand soaps offered (very important when you have a house with a revolving door to all the neighborhood kids as well as your own, trust me on this!), I make my selection and turn around to see my five year old son checking out the huge floor-to-ceiling display of, ahem, ladies' feminine hygiene products.  He has even picked up a box of panty liners and is inspecting them like he is a detective-in-training!

All I can think is, "Please God, please God, please God DON'T let him ask me what these things are!  I am sooooooooo not ready to try to explain the workings of the female body."

Using a tried and true tactic, I say, "Alrighty, kiddos, depending on your behavior here today, we can swing by the GIANT toy section, and maaaaaybe, depending on your behavior, you may each pick out something.  Within reason.  Not over  five dollars."  They're easy to please.

Ding, ding, ding!  Mama said the magic words!  Yippee!  There may be a brand new toy in our future!  They didn't say that, but the looks on their faces did.

And by the way, what is it about Walmart that attracts some really, really (1) rude, (2 ) ignorant, (3) strange, and (4) a little bit frightening people?  Don't get me wrong, there are nice people there(I'm SURE there are), but theeeeeere's a lot of weird ones, too.

Let me just paint a little picture real quick---a buggy FULL of crap, 'cause you know that by this point I have thrown in waaaaaaay more stuff than I came in for, two rather large kids hanging on either side, and me, trying to navigate the aisles that seem to have one landmine after another.

PEOPLE---if you are shopping ANYWHERE with a buggy, DO NOT leave it smack dab in the middle of the aisle while you are off picking out your stuff!!!!  And then, don't act like the kid that is moving your  buggy outta the way so that her mom can get by is gonna steal your cart.  'Cause she ain't!

No lie.  That happened to me.

A lady left her EMPTY shopping cart in the middle of the aisle, went around the corner, like she had abandoned her cart and then got all bent out of shape when she came back around the corner as my daughter was moving her cart over.

Like a six year old is gonna steal her stupid buggy.  Newsflash---the six year old does not want your buggy!!!!!  Trust me!

So, now we are a good 45 minutes into the shopping excursion.  I have THREE things left to get.  I'm thinking I can hightail it through the store because my girl's flip-flops were rubbing her and she has now decided to sit in the buggy on top of the potting soil.  My little man can hop on and hold on to the buggy and with this new arrangement, I can put it into overdrive.  I'll be done and out the door in an hour's time.

I didn't factor in bathroom time and toy section time.  But I'll get to that in a minute.

Being the glutton for punishment that I am, and seeing as how we were at a Super Walmart with the groceries and all, I (foolishly) decide that I should zoom through the grocery aisles to pick up a few things.

But first we have to navigate to that side of the store.  The conversation went a little something like this--

Me--Put that back, we're not getting it.

Sean--Is Savannah gonna get that thing she put in the buggy?

Me--I don't know.

Sean--Can I get something?

Savannah--Mama, go faster.

Me--Sean, don't touch that.

Savannah--Go down that aisle.  Oooohhhh, look at all the flowers! (They were artificial flowers, but she doesn't care, she has a thing for any kind of flower.)

Me--Nope, we're not stopping.  Gotta get outta here.  Sean, come on buddy.

Sean--Mama, look!  Cars 2 posters!

Me--Yep, we're not getting any.  Let's go.

Savannah--Sean, let me see.  Mama, let me out.

Me--Nope, come on.  Let's go.  Sean, I'm leaving you.  Move it.

Sean--Savannah, look!  Chocolate!

Savannah--Let me at it!

Me--Come on!  Let's go.  We're almost done.

You get the idea.

So, after what seemed like the longest walk in history, we made it to the grocery section

 The paper goods section can only be described as a double decker wall of toilet paper and paper towels.  If you've ever been to a Super Walmart, you'll know what I'm talking about.  The upper shelf is tall enough for a kid to walk under and hide in the packages.

Which is exactly what my son did.  I was about ready to kill him.

And he stayed there and stayed there and stayed there.  Even as I was at the very end of the aisle calling his name over and over and saying that I am going to leave him, he STILL does not come out.  I have that brief moment of "Holy crap!  What if something happened to him?  What if he went out the other side and somebody snatched him?"

And just as I am about to lose my you-know-what, he comes strolling out with his little cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on his face.

Breathe in, breathe out.  Count to ten.  Patience, please Lord, give me patience.

Well, the rest of the grocery expedition went rather smoothly, all things considered.  We are on our way to the toy section, when I get "Mama, I really hafta go to the bafroom."

Really?  Seriously?  For real?  OK, OK, lemme find it.

We get to the bathroom, park the cart and Savannah tells me that she will "just wait right here for you."

I.  DON'T.  THINK.  SO.  Young lady, you will get your shoes on, get out and come with us.  These kids, I swear!

Now, my children are well educated on how germs work and why it's important to wash your hands, especially in a place like a public restroom.  But they insist on touching every single surface in the restroom.  They're probably just trying to give me a heart attack.  So we all wash our hands, only to turn right around and wash them again since I see both kids run their hands over the bathroom wall.  So gross.

Back at the shopping cart, the kidlets decide to switch places.  After some juggling and shuffling around, we get moving and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.  One quick (Ha!) stop at the toy section, we'll check out and be homeward bound.

The toy section.  That glorious area where every kid glazes over and goes into a trance-like state of sheer bliss.  I mean , this is hallowed ground for a kid.  Their version of paradise.

Even though we had already been in the depths of shopping Hades for what felt like eternity, I wasn't going to rush my babes out of there.  They needed a chance to look at everything, and they did.  They had to take it all in and weigh their options before they made their selection.  Besides, I had already popped open the bag of animal crackers and could munch on them while they looked.  This was gonna take a while.

I'm smart about it, though.  I know my kids, what they like.  I steered him toward the aisle with the cars and trucks and (most importantly) the planes and helicopters.  And lucky for me, there was a three dollar helicopter that he didn't have yet.  Savannah was still sold on her paint-by-number set, we were DONE!!!!

But not before we swung by the pet section, picked out a new leash for our poochie, Dixie, who had chewed her old leash into pieces, and squeezed every noise making dog toy stocked by Walmart.  Whew, NOW we're done and we can check out.

But not before the kids have to take turns making the automatic door to the garden area where I am going to check out open, which, not surprisingly, takes some time because a lot of people are coming and going.  You see, they have to wait for the doors to completely close before they go running up to it, jump on the threshold, watch the doors open, and say, "Ta daaaaa!"

YES!  I can SEE the checkout!  We are almost there.  At this point I WANT to give them my money just so that I can get home!

But not before the kids have to go down the slide on the wooden playset one more time and open and look at three or four grills that have been set up.

I MADE IT!!!!!!  I am in the line to pay for my  crap that I really don't need stuff.  A hundred and twenty-five bucks later, I am out the door!  Whoo-hoo!

By the time I got the kids loaded up, buckled in, got the bags in the car, parked the shopping cart, and got myself in the car and buckled, I realized that we had been there for ALMOST TWO HOURS!!!!!  And we still hadn't eaten lunch!  Only a few mouthfuls of animal crackers.

I was pushing my luck.  There's nothing deadlier in nature than a tired and hungry kid.

I'll make the rest of this short because I think I am getting a little long-winded here.

We make it home without incident (miracle of miracles!) and I am inside the house dropping some bags off on the kitchen counter when I come back outside to my girl wailing and my boy going around the opposite side of the car in order to avoid the punishment that was coming his way.  I can't believe that kid hasn't learned yet that there is no escaping Mama!

Apparently, Savannah was in the back, grabbing some bags when Sean decided to shut her head in the door.  On purpose.  Or so she says.  He says it was on accident.  The truth is probably somewhere in the middle.

But isn't that where the truth always lies?

So anyway, he gets sent off to his room indefinitely, she gets a kiss and a hug.  She was fine.  I'm sure it did hurt and it probably scared her, but she has a tendency to overreact a little, especially if she sees it's going to get her little "bother" in trouble.  My little Drama Mama.

At this point, I am counting down the minutes until my husband is available to take over and supervise so that I may go get a cheap bottle of wine.  I have a rule about wine--nothing over 10 dollars.  You'd be surprised at how tasty (and therapeutic) a cheap bottle of wine can be.

And being the Bargain Betty that I am, I got the best deal going.  TWO bottles of red on sale for 12 bucks with a coupon on each for 2 dollars off!  That's right, ladies and gentlemen, 2 bottles of wine for, count 'em, EIGHT dollars!  The wine gods were smiling on me.

It wasn't such a bad day after all.

Mama is not happy

Okaaaaaaaaaaaaay, so here we are, the second day of summer vacation, the time of year that every man, woman, and child looks forward to.  No school, less traffic on the commute, lazy mornings, maybe a little more cartoon watching than normal, watermelon and ice cream---summer.  Glorious, fabulous, SUMMER!

How the hell can my little darlings be so bored already?!  To the point of being at each other's throats and giving me a nasty attitude.  Attitude at 5 and 6 years old.  Really?!?!

Well, our day started off pretty well, but quickly disintegrated into shoving, sand throwing, and name calling.  I'll give you the quick run-down.

Wake up at around 7:00 am, make the coffee, let the sociopaths kids watch some TV shows that we had on the dvr, break up an argument over what show they were going to watch, enjoy an little peace and quiet while the show was on, figure out what to make for breakfast, break up ANOTHER argument over what they were watching next, had to point out to my daughter that she had picked out the first show, finish making breakfast, get them to eat, inform them that the boob tube was going off for the rest of the day and that we not going to spend out entire summer watching TV (met with considerable resistance), kicked them outside while I cleaned up the kitchen and caught up with an old girlfriend on the phone, asked girlfriend to hold on multiple times so I could yell at the little precious heads to knock it off, and finally had to get off the phone altogether when I saw the sand fight erupt in  the sandbox.  Oh yeah, full on contact, fistfuls of sand getting shoved in mouths and faces.

As you can imagine, Mama was not happy!  And if Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy!

And frankly, I wouldn't have been surprised if that vein that runs down the middle of my forward was sticking out, as it has a tendency to do that when I get really smokin' mad.

I told everybody to strip down and jump in the pool to wash off all the sand.  Then to grab a towel and march straight back to their rooms.  Do not pass go, do not collect $200.  Honey, you are are done, done, DONE for the day!

And Mama ain't kidding around this time!

Oh, I let them come out to use the bathroom, and heck, I even took 'em some food, but they're gonna stay there for a while longer.  Gotta let them know I'm not just whistlin' Dixie!

And so, this is where they have been since 9:30 am this morning.  It is now 2:55 pm.  It's kinda been like that stages of grief thing.  You know--


1. Shock and Denial--"What?!  I didn't do anything, it was all him!"(or her, depending on who is doing the denying)


2. Pain and Guilt--The guilt part I'm not so sure about, 'cause I don't think they ever feel guilty about beating each other up, unless someone really gets hurt.  The pain part, for sure, because now they just got in trouble and are on their way to punishment.


3. Anger and Bargaining--Definitely a lot of that going on.  "I can't believe I have to go to my room."(usually said very angrily as they stomp off to their room)  This is most often accompanied by the promise of never doing it again.


4. "Depression", Reflection, and Loneliness-- "How looooooong do I hafta stay in my roooooom?"  "Maaaaama, WHEN can I come out?  I'm sooooooo bored and I'm aaaallllll by myself!"  Well, yes, that's the point.


5. The Upward Turn-- "Look, Mama, I'm cleaning up my room and putting everything away."  Very good, young Jedi, you are learning.

6. Reconstruction and Working Through-- "I told her/him I'm sorry.  We promise to get along now."  Uh-huh, but your butt is still staying in your room.

and finally...


7. Acceptance and Hope-- "Okaaaay, we understand.  You are only trying to teach us to be decent, caring human beings and we love and respect you so much for the extremely difficult job that you have for the next 15 plus years.  We understand that we don't get to play with anyone or go outside, but maybe we can swim tonight before we go to bed!  And we promise that tomorrow will be waaaaaaay better!"  Alright, they didn't really say that last part.  I made it up.  I'm just hoping that's what they are thinking.


I'll keep you posted on how many more times we have go through this this summer.  Hopefully, none.  


But, I doubt it.

Pay no attention to the hysterical lady in the front row

First, I have to say that I am a tad on the emotional side. 

Well, it would be better put if I said kind of emotional. 

Oh, alright, very emotional. 

OK, fine.  Very, very, very, really emotional. 

I cry at embarrassing things.  For instance, Lee Greenwood's song, "Proud to be an American,"  gets me every single time.  (I know what you're thinking, "Holy cheeseball."  I can't help it.) 

The sunlight can be streaming through the clouds at just the right angle, looking like Heaven's gate is wide open and I'll look at it as I'm driving in the hell that is known as rush hour on westbound 595, and I'll think, "Wow, that is really gorgeous."  Waterworks.  The people driving next to me must think, "Oh, that poor girl is really upset about something, something really sad must have happened to her."  No.  No, I just thought the sky looked really pretty.

Commercials can make me cry.  Especially the ones that have kids, old people, or animals in them.  Hallmark commercials?  Forget it.  I usually have to go get a tissue after seeing one of those.

Being that's it's the end of the school year, you probably know where I'm headed with this.

Uh-huh.  Yep.  Graduation.

My baby graduated.  She's so grown up.  So poised.  So confident.  Ready to make her mark on the world. 

She graduated from kindergarten. 

And I cried.  I mean, I boo-hoo'ed.  Like, the kind where your chest is heaving up and down and your bottom lip is quivering and you. can. only. talk. like. this.  The ugly cry.  Fortunately for my pride, I was alone when I was cryin' like that.  I must say I'm quite proud of myself for holding it together pretty well in public. 

OK, so here's how my mind works---She was JUST a brand new baby, like, yesterday, I swear!  And NOW she's already graduated from kindergarten, next elementary school will be over and done with, and then it will be middle school and and attitude and first crushes.  And then, it will be boyfriends(God help me!) and high school.  And make-up and dating and prom.(I think I feel sick.)  And, of course, high school graduation which will lead to her LEAVING me, moving out(how cruel can one child be?!) and going to college where she very well might meet her Prince Charming.  And then the next thing you know, she'll get married and have kids.  And, oh my Lord!  I think I might start hyperventiliating right here and now. 

I can't take it!  Somebody get me a paper bag!  Quick!

Seriously, I have had these exact thoughts many times before.  I think the first time I had this train of thought was when she was probably about 6 months old, sleeping in my arms, and I was just gazing at that beautiful little face when thoughts of the future bitch-slapped me.  My husband walked in and found me crying hysterically while I holding our first born who was contentedly snoozing away.  He thought something terrible had happened.  Well, YEAH!  I had seen her whole childhood play out in my mind and she was already moving away.  I'd say that was pretty terrible.  He didn't say a thing.  Just walked away. 

I'm pretty sure he went and got a beer.

Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh...but that's the thing about children, isn't it?  They grow up and leave and make their own way. 

And to tell you the truth, I wouldn't want anything different for her. 

No matter how much I cry.

About the Happy Mama

It dawned on me this morning in the afterglow of the creation of my blog (seriously, I am so proud of myself for figuring out how to do this thing on my own, of course, it IS practically idiot proof--click and type, even I can do that, for pete's sake!) that you might want to know a little something about me.

On a side note, and not that this has anything to do with anything, but I am having the toughest time typing this morning because apparently I had too much coffee and not enough food.  Hands are shaking and tummy is gurgling.  Not.  Good. 

Anyway...

OK, so I was born in Alabama in 1970, so for you mathematically challenged folks out there like me, that makes me 40. 

This is from my 40th birthday party.  It was fun.  We had a "Key West" theme going, complete with a guy that juggled fire and a dude that dressed up like a robot.  You know, like all those crazy people in Mallory Square that perform at sunset every night.  Notice that I am not in the picture.  I would post a picture of me celebrating my 40 years on this earth, but there were none taken.  It got a little wild.  Fuzzy memories...

When I was 10, we moved to Bainbridge, Georgia, in the southwest corner of the state way down by the Florida and Alabama line.  Think 110% humidity in the summertime, gnats, slow Southern drawls (music to my ears), fish frys, hunting, fishing on the river, and small town life.  We used to say, "Welcome to Bainbridge, set your clocks back 10 years."  It was a great place for me and my older brother, Alan, to grow up.

This is my bro reading a nite-nite story to my kidlets.  He'd make a good Dad.

When I went to college, I went to FSU.  This was during the years that Bobby Bowden was in his prime.  The year that I graduated was the year that we won our first national championship.  Yes, it was a fantastic football team and party, I mean, education.

After college, I had my sights set on Broadway.  Me, a small town girl, totally naive, wanted to go work on Broadway in the Big Apple.  I didn't care what I was doing, ushering, working backstage, selling tickets, didn't matter as long as I was there!  I went to an acting conservatory for a brief time before I got really, really, REALLY sick. 

Homesick, that is.  All I could think about was getting home, back to my family, back to my roots.  I left New York, moved back to Georgia and back in with my parents.  Now what?

I decided that I wanted to open a coffee shop, but my Dad, being the pragmatic banker that he was, said go back to school, get a business degree and then I will be your partner.  OK, easy enough. 

But, as we all know, life never goes the way you think it should.

So the long story in the shortened version is this, in this order---I met an awesome guy, my Dad had a really horrible car accident, I moved (multiple times, all over the place) with the aforementioned guy, I got married, my Dad passed away, we moved back down to Florida, lived overseas (twice) for a short period of time, moved from one part of Florida to another, had 2 kiddos right in a row, and here I am, almost 7 years later after my eldest was born.

Being a mom has changed my life in so many ways.  Well, hello, Captain Obvious!  Of course it's changed my life!  How could it not?!  Any mother knows that.  But what I mean is that I had spent so much time worrying about what I was gonna do, what I was gonna be, moving from one thing to another and never being satisified.  Always searching for...something, I just didn't know what.  Once I held that baby, it was all over, I was filled with a happiness and a satisfaction that I had never known.  I knew what I was meant to do---be a mama.  And as it turns out, I'm pretty good at it, or at least I like to think that I am.  My baby boy tells me that I am the best mom in the whole, whole, whole (his words) world and that he could never have a better mama.  I'll take his word for it.

That's me and my boy.  We don't normally dress like this.  It was Halloween.  He wuvs his Mama.  And I wuv him.  Lots and lots.

So, that's me in a nutshell.  Thanks for reading!

Hey y'all! 

Thanks so much for checking out my blog! 

Wow, this is a whole new world we live in!  I can't believe that I am actually sitting here composing a post for my very own blog.  I have fought this Internet/technology thing for sooooooooooo long. 

I guess I lost the fight.

It was a losing battle anyway.

OK, well, here's what I'm probably gonna talk about, but don't hold me to it, because I have been known to go off on a tangent every now and then.  Anyway...it's probably gonna be things like kids, food, fur babies(otherwise known as pets), kids gettin' in trouble, house stuff, family, you know, all the things that we all love more than anything which are also the very same things that make us all crazy at any given point!

So that's it, oh!  Except for that I probably am going to write about the t-shirt line that I have been TRYING to roll out for over a stinkin' year now!  It's called "Happy Girl", hence, "Happy Mama", get it?  Oh, I'm so clever.  (hence--I've always liked that word, love using it, but I digress...)

By the way, I'm a little sarcastic, too.  It's a family trait.  I can't help it.

I hope you enjoy reading my posts!  I'm excited! 

Whoo-hoo!  I am now officially not hopelessly pathetic in the ways of the technology world!  Yippee!