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My Professional Background - Once upon a time, I wanted to be a motivational speaker. Actually, I was a professional motivational speaker for about 5 years.:

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December 2013

Well, friends, I’m back and bedder than ever.

[Typos already. Well, that’s what happens when you take two weeks off without writing.]

No, that’s not a typo. It’s an explanation of where I’ve been these past two weeks. Allow me to elaborate…

Brian gave me a Fitbit for Christmas. It’s basically a device I wear on my wrist that tracks my movements (sleep and overall activity level).

Fitbit

First of all, men, I need to inform you that this is an incredibly risky gift for a man to give a woman for Christmas. Particularly if she has struggled with depression.

“Merry Christmas, honey! Here’s a nifty gift that will track how many hours you spend in bed and how stagnant you are even during your few waking moments.”

I just had a flashback to the Christmas where my dad gave my mom running shoes and fluorescent jogging suits. I’ll never forget the look on her face. It’s the look that says, “I know just the perfect place to put this bleepity-bleep-bleep shoe!”

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I Saw Mommy Killing Santa Claus

One of my very best friends (a fellow military spouse) and I had a conversation recently about Christmas and how we want our kids to experience this magical time of year. My friend is a fellow Christian who home schools her 4 kids—all of whom are young enough to believe in Santa Claus.

Before I go any further, I have to let you know that this post is a Santa spoiler alert. So, if you have a habit of curling up by the fire and reading my posts aloud to your children, now would be a good time to forgo that routine. Instead, you might want to read them something a bit less scarring.

Back to my story…

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Kids Shows Getting "Steamy"

If you happen to check out my Facebook or Instagram pages, you’ll notice that there are lots of photos of JJ playing with trains. He eats with his trains. He sleeps with them. He dreams about them (so we learned when he woke up once from a nap and yelled, “train tracks!”). When we get in the car to leave the house he says, “No! I want to go back home and play with trains!” And when we finally convince him that we have to leave the house at least once a month, he says, “I want to go to the store [Barnes & Noble] and play with trains [they have a train table]” or “Let’s find some train tracks.”

Just last night when we told him it was time for bed, he whined, “But I want to play with my trains.” Never mind the fact that we have permanently set up a train track 2 feet from his bed so that he can get his fix at all hours of the night.

Naturally, JJ’s favorite show is Thomas & Friends. I do love that my 3-year-old now says things like “very well, then” and “Mama is cross” with a slight English accent, but I grew concerned about the show when I was invited by JJ to play trains in the basement last week.

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My "Super-Simple," "No-Fail" Diet Plan!

Warning:  The following post may be disturbing to some readers. Particularly those with a weak stomach. Reader discretion is advised.

If you caught Wednesday’s post about our exciting car ride on Monday afternoon, then you can probably guess how the rest of my week has been. I have cleaned up vomit 5 different times. FIVE. That’s about five more times than I would have to do it if I had that live-in nanny Brian promised me before I agreed to marry him.

Yesterday at 5:45 a.m., I awoke to JJ’s blood-curdling scream and the reconstituted remnants of his evening meal. I think Bill Engvall is so right about this one: someone should invent an alarm clock that sounds like a baby vomiting because there is NO snoozing!

So, as I watched 12 solid hours of kid-friendly programming yesterday, I put a great deal of thought into Mr. Engvall’s words. If I’ll never have that live-in nanny, then I should probably consider how I can turn these unpleasant moments into a lucrative business opportunity.

Enter:

My Super-Simple, No-Fail Diet Plan

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Motherhood:  Not for the Faint of Stomach

I hopped in the car with the kids on Monday for a week-long trip to the booming metropolis of Knob Noster, Missouri. Yes, since you asked, we do lead glamorous lives.

Brian is working in Knob Noster all week, and I thought it would be a sanctifying experience if the kids and I joined him there for five days in a military hotel. I woke up with no alarm at 6:30 a.m. on Monday (seriously, that’s a miracle in and of itself) with a list of things I needed to accomplish before our 4:00 p.m. estimated departure. I wanted to wait until after Averi’s nap to hit the road, and I knew I would need every bit of the morning and afternoon to pack for a week in a hotel with two toddlers.

Did I mention it is a one bedroom hotel?

I was shooting for super-sancitifed. 

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